


There's a Demon in My Bed

by talismandan



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Food, Ghosts, Happy Ending, Horror, It starts off pretty serious but I promise it gets lighter, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mystery, No Smut, Ouija Boards, Paranormal, Slow Burn, Supernatural Elements, Therapy, implied home invasion, past major character death, somewhat angsty, there's no depictions of death but it is mentioned/implied
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:08:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27259195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/talismandan/pseuds/talismandan
Summary: After Dan finally moved out of his parent’s house, he started having… Experiences. Every night when Dan tried to sleep, someone laid next to him. It never spoke, never moved -- It was horrifyingly still. He never dared to speak to it. Never dared to roll over and see whether or not he was losing his mind. As time went on though, he quickly realized he couldn’t ignore it forever.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger and Content Warnings (please check tags): Death (mentioned/implied), alcohol, mental health issues, therapy, horror, and food/eating
> 
> I’m just going to pretend like I didn’t start this in January, but woooo new fanfic!! I was originally going to make this a oneshot but then it kept getting longer and longer and I was like -_- ... So now you get chapters. I also wanted to get this out before Halloween for obvious reasons.
> 
> Without spoiling anything, I will say that there is technically major character death, but it is never depicted during the course of the story. I was uncertain if I should label it as major character death but decided to just put it in the tags, but please let me know if you'd rather me label it though!
> 
> Finally, quick disclaimer: There are parts in this fic where Dan goes to therapy and opens up about stuff and I just wanted to say that in no way am I claiming that I know what Dan is going through nor how I’d go about helping the problems he talks about. This story is fictional, and so is my vast understanding of mental health and Dan.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Words: 8301

When Dan moved, he was hoping to find contentment. Peace. He wanted this place to be a fresh new start, a place where he could rebuild and understand himself. It’s never that easy though, is it?

What he got instead of it all was sleeplessness. Oh, and not to mention the demon that slept in his bed.

It was a gradual, innocent start to something that made Dan want to run and cry. It was merely bumps in the night. Creaks and noises. Things that were small and forgettable. Then, he started losing stuff. His phone, which had been beside him just seconds ago, somehow ended up on the ledge of his bathtub. Shoes would disappear and then reappear under his bed or other unthinkable places. Dan thought he was losing his mind, but he tried to pass it off as “homesickness.” Afterall, Dan never believed in the paranormal, even if it left him shaking and paranoid.

But none of those small occurrences would ever compare to the night it first happened. It was a long day of doing absolutely nothing, and he headed off to bed oblivious as to what the night would entail. Just as he was drifting off to sleep, something weighed down on the portion of his bed he didn’t sleep on. A weight as if someone had quite literally climbed into his bed and laid down right behind him. 

Whatever it was, it was silent. Still, but the weight was undeniable. It didn’t speak a word, it didn’t move, it was like whatever was there, _wasn’t there_ , even though it very clearly was. 

At that point he knew something was happening. Something terrifying, perhaps even life threatening. He tried _so_ hard to deny the idea it was supernatural, but it was unexplainable. He started forming theories to make himself feel better, even if they ironically only made him feel worse. Maybe there was a perverted homeless man living in his walls. Or maybe he _was_ losing his mind. 

After that night, he scoured every nook and cranny in his apartment. He ripped out all of the clothes from his closet, looking for some kind of secret passageway. He knocked on every part of his wall trying to find hollow parts. He looked for small holes, hidden cameras, you name it. 

But he found nothing, and that’s when he realized that what had happened was impossible. It _had_ to be. 

The following night, he climbed back into bed, less paranoid than he was in the morning. Nevertheless, he slept in the same exact position as yesterday. On his side. He could keep telling himself that he was fine, and what happened last night was but the result of too much caffeine before bed. However, Dan believed that ignorance is bliss. At least he did in that moment. 

That night, there was the same weight again. Except this time, he heard breathing.

~

“How have you been sleeping?” Dr. Bailey’s eyes assessed Dan’s, which lay fixated on the ground, dark and empty. 

“Yeah I’ve been fine,” he mumbled, playing with a thread on his pants. 

“That doesn’t really answer my question, Dan,” his therapist chuckled.

“Huh?” His head shot up, and the question finally processed. “Oh, I’ve been sleeping fine.”

Dr. Bailey eyed him suspiciously. His eyes were green and a beautiful shade of auburn eclipsed around his pupils. He had a perfect smile, perfect teeth, and, _of fucking course,_ he had dimples. Dan would resort to old habits of self-deprecating jokes to get him to laugh, and even though Bailey would shake his head and scold him, he’d still get the luxury of seeing how pretty he looked when he smiled. If Dan didn’t know any better, he’d be spending this time hitting on him. 

“The bags under your eyes tell me a different story,” he assessed, crossing his leg. “I want you to be honest with me.”

Dan ran his hand through his hair nervously. How was he supposed to tell him his apartment is haunted? He can’t even admit it himself. Besides, is getting it all off of his chest just to be scolded that he’s a child really worth it?

“Well I mean… I think I’ve been experiencing sleep paralysis,” he lied.

“Could you describe that to me?” Bailey looked intrigued.

“It’s nothing _super_ extreme but uh… Every night, it feels like someone, or _something,_ sleeps next to me.”

“Oh, that’s pretty spooky! Does anything else occur?”

Dan fumbled with his hands.

“No, not really. It just lays there all night, and then when I wake up, it’s gone. I’ve started sleeping on the sofa to help the uh… _Paralysis_ , but I get less sleep there than I do in that damned bed.” 

“So the sofa helps with your sleep paralysis?” 

“For the most part, I guess.” Even when there wasn’t something sleeping next to him, there was still a lingering paranoia that something was watching him.

Bailey nodded in understanding, listening attentively.

“Have you tried taking anything when these episodes started, like Xanax or other medication?”

“You’d be worried by how much shit I’ve been putting in my body.” He intended it as a joke, but unfortunately Dan didn’t get the laugh he wanted. Instead, Bailey tilted his head, a subtle hint of concern flashing over his features.

He continued asking questions though, hoping to piece together an explanation and solution for Dan. However, he was already prepared to hear it.

_You need to drink more water. You need to take better care of yourself. You need to go out more. You should consider seeing people._

Majority of those things would probably help, and somehow, they might even explain all of the weird phenomena happening, but Dan was in denial. He didn’t want to believe the nights he spent wide awake thinking there was a demon right next to him was true, but he also didn’t want to be told he was losing his mind. He wanted closure, but from what exactly? And how was he expecting to get it?

Dr. Bailey started going on about possible explanations and how Dan may go about fixing his ‘sleep paralysis.’ 

“For starters, try getting to bed earlier. From the looks of it, you’ve been getting little to no sleep and that helps none.” Dan’s cheeks pinked at the thought of Bailey noticing the changes in his appearance.

Dan’s edging thirty so why does he act like a teenager?

“How about you hit the hay... Let’s say 10 o’clock. Change it how you will, just promise me you get in bed before 12.”

Dan nodded, eyes glued to the floor. 

“And before you sleep, do something that relaxes you. This can be meditation, drawing, listening to calm music, whatever helps bring your mind to a peaceful place.”

Dan tried to appear interested, but his mind was in several other places.

“I know what I’m saying doesn’t sound as helpful right now, but it doesn’t hurt to try. You said it started when you moved out, so the sleep paralysis may very well have originated from the stress of moving. It’s never an easy process, and I hope you know that the anxiety you’re feeling is completely normal.”

“Your body and mind’s reaction to this stress may be different compared to other’s, but you shouldn’t beat yourself up for it. If anything, these episodes, as terrifying as they may be for you, could be good, because it’s a clear wake-up call that you need to take better care of yourself.” Dr. Bailey smiled sweetly and leaned over to squeeze Dan’s knee.

“So promise me you’ll _attempt_ to do the things I asked: Go to sleep early and do it with a calm mind. And try to cut down on the caffeine, yeah?”

Dan laughed with the little energy he had and made a weak promise. He asked him to start getting in the habit of some other things, but Dan couldn’t pay attention to the words as he had become too fixated on the pen that somehow started rolling off of Bailey’s desk.

~

It was cold when he got back to his apartment, just like it always does when he gets back from therapy. He checks every time, but his windows are never open. Yet another bizarre thing that started ever since he moved in, and yet another thing he tried to pass off as but a simple “quirk” of the building.

Today, the apartment was colder than usual. Thanks to Dan’s extensive knowledge of the paranormal, as much as he hated it, unexplainable temperature changes are a supposed sign of ghosts or demons, but Dan did his best to ignore it.

He wrapped himself up in a blanket, turned up the heat (despite it apparently already being set super high), and then plopped down onto his sofa. Dan was quick to kill the silence and immediately turned on a show. He needed to distract himself.

As he sat on the sofa, the very sofa he’d ruin his neck trying to fall asleep on every night, it became very clear that the room was only getting colder. He pulled the blanket closer to him, tried to get warm, but it was no use. 

In a fit of frustration, he whipped the blanket off and shot up.

“Can you fuck off?!” 

He succumbed slowly to the truth. The taunting truth that he stood in the middle of his lounge yelling at nothing but cold air. He huffed and rubbed his face, deciding that maybe Dr. Bailey was right, and that maybe he should listen to his advice.

_Do something that relaxes you. Bring your mind to a peaceful place._

Dan couldn’t think of the last time his mind was in a “peaceful place.” Perhaps a warm bath would help. 

~

Night time rolled around far too fast, and Dan considered the idea of just staying up to try and escape it, but he decided against it. Dr. Bailey said to sleep early, and doing that would more likely than not help his case. So, at exactly 10:30 PM, Dan started getting ready to sleep. He brushed his teeth, threw on his pajamas, and sat at the edge of his bed, silent.

He wasn’t going to be able to sleep. 

He was wide awake and his mind was already racing. He needed to go to sleep with a calm mind, but how the hell was he supposed to do that when all that he associates sleep with are demons?

The orange color of street lights illuminated parts of his room and Dan couldn’t tell if he was calmed by it or repulsed by the unwanted light. He could pull his curtains shut, maybe even throw a blanket over the curtain rods, but he knew it would only make it harder for him to get out of bed. He wouldn’t have minded sleeping in of course, if only he had a good relationship with the mocking comfiness.

He stared at his piano, sitting patiently against a wall. It was a digital one of course. Even if it wasn’t technically a “real piano,” it sat just like one practically begging to be played.

He hadn’t played since he moved in. He’d been far too stressed, but now, more than ever, he wanted to play. He _needed_ to play. 

He got up from his god-forsaken bed and slipped into the small, cheap stool that came with the piano. He lifted up the lid and let himself go.

It was never difficult for him to float away among music, and was even easier when he played. Listening to how musicians could shape their own universe was an experience, but shaping your own was a whole different story.

It was scary how fast his playing calmed him, how a couple simple chords and mediocre improvisations could clean the worry away from his infested brain. If the music Dan created was food, Gordon Ramsay would be salivating. 

There was a sudden, loud creak that made Dan freeze in place. His hands, positioned to play, lay tensed above the plastic keys. He contemplated turning around, but fear crept into his skin and snuggled close. What if someone was there? What if someone _wasn’t?_ Dan couldn’t decide which would be worse.

Nevertheless, he whipped his head to the noise behind him and saw nothing.

The sofa it is. 

~

Dan’s new job started out being one of the things that he dreaded the most, but now it was the most exciting thing he had. Whether or not that was the saddest thing in the universe to admit remained a mystery. He was actually establishing relationships with co-workers. A small group of people invited him into their colony with kind, welcoming arms, but Dan always found an excuse to decline their offers to go out. He was more than thankful to have such kind-hearted people near him, but the mere idea of going to a bar to drink after work drained him. 

So he slipped on his coat and double-checked his pockets to make sure he had everything. As he was about to leave though, a girl named Belle caught up with him furiously trying to get his attention.

“Hey! Dan, hey! Dan! Stop walking, will ya?” Her voice was indistinguishable.

Giving in, he turned to face her and flashed her a warm smile.

“What are you doing tonight?” Belle asked, a little out of breath. “Are you free?” 

“Uhh…” Dan thought for a moment, asking himself if he wanted to be a bummer for the millionth time this week. “I- I mean I don’t know, I was just gonna-” 

“We’re not gonna do anything too crazy if that’s what you’re worried about. We were just planning on buying some popcorn, watching movies, playing board games; easy stuff.” Her smile was inviting and hopeful.

 _Easy stuff._ Was it going to be easy enough for him though?

It was then that a genius idea hit Dan like a meteor. An idea that he felt stupid for not thinking about earlier.

“Are you all staying the night?” Dan asked eagerly. 

“What?” She was caught off guard. “Oh! I mean, we weren’t planning to, but if it means you’ll come along I’m sure they won’t mind.”

She elbowed Dan playfully, hope bursting in her face.

“Yeah! Yeah- that would be cool! I can totally come!” Dan sputtered. 

He’s never had crazy experiences outside of his own apartment. Sometimes he’d see things out of the corner of his eye, or hear voices in his head, but never anything too _bad_ … Either way, he knew getting out of his place would help his sanity. He may even be able to fix his sleeping schedule.

“Never thought a sleepover would be the thing that broke you.” She giggled. 

“It just sounds nice,” Dan shrugged. “I haven’t left the house in awhile.”

Belle looked like she had questions, but instead, she grabbed his arm and dragged him back inside the building where Dan was plopped back into the circle of friends he often felt like a nuisance for prodding into. 

The group consisted of one guy and two girls, and each and every one of them was close. Marshall, Belle, and Sydney all had been friends since they started working. They probably knew each other’s life stories like the back of their hands. And they probably knew the back of each other’s hands like the back of their hands. 

Dan felt like a rock in a pile of strawberries. 

“Not to get anyone’s hopes up or anything because I can practically smell Dan’s flight mode going off, but he _may or may not_ have just said yes to hanging out.” Belle announced, barging confidently in between a heated debate regarding an actor Dan didn’t know.

As the tallest person in the room (and probably a 50 mile radius) he sure as hell felt like the smallest.

Whatever they were talking about apparently wasn’t important though because they dropped the conversation immediately.

“You’re fucking kidding me.” Sydney’s face brightened up. 

Dan’s shoulders scrunched up like an awkward teenager, but he forced out a chuckle. 

“Guess I finally ‘felt like it’ today,” he attempted to humor them. 

“Turns out his soft spot is sleepovers and popcorn.” 

“Weird,” Marshall chimed in. “I was betting on picnics or something cute like that.”

“I also wouldn’t mind that.” Dan smiled, confidence slowly entering his blood. He couldn’t tell if it was real confidence or the confidence he often had to fake to please people. The group was cozy and inviting, but it felt like that energy belonged to someone else.

“Y’know, now feels like the absolute _perfect_ time to get to know our new member better.” Sydney subtly hinted at something. “Oh, like, I don’t know - Judge his decorative skills, look through his wardrobe, find his secret stash of baby photos.”

“Syd’, you’re an actual genius.” Belle was clearly ecstatically pleased with whatever Sydney was churning up.

Dan caught on quickly, and it left his plan and himself falling apart

“Wait, you want to stay at my place?” Dan tried not to come off as upset.

“I’m sure you’ll feel more comfortable there than any of our places.” Marshall slid in, his face mirroring the excitement of Belle and Sydney’s but with an added hint of nonchalance. “Trust me, you can live without seeing my several mountains of dirty socks.”

Everyone laughed except for Dan. All he could manage was an unstable smile. 

He tried his best to swallow his anxiety. He couldn’t decide what was worse: the demon torturing Dan and no one else seeing it or the demon torturing everyone and ruining his relationships. Both thoughts made him sick, and he knew there was no good way of getting out of this.

It wasn’t until he was pulled out of his spiral that he realized how intensely he was staring at the linoleum floor beneath their feet. 

“Hey, it’s completely fine if you aren’t comfortable with us staying over by the way. We could go to my place, but we might have to deal with a slightly irritated roommate. All we want is for you to have a good time.” Sydney smiled sincerely.

Ironically, the pressure gnawing at Dan to say yes just grew.

“No, no no! It’s cool! I live alone so it’d be a lot easier for everyone to just stay at my place.” Dan was almost certain that they could hear the fear in his voice because all their eyes grew soft and pitiful.

“Are you sure, Dan?” Marshall was being just as gentle as Sydney, and as kind as he was trying to be, it only made him feel worse.

The people pleaser in him already knew the answer.

~

He couldn’t tell if he was worried more about them being uncomfortable or disappointed. Both would be completely plausible and understandable reactions honestly.

He hadn’t really decorated his apartment when he moved in. The most he could manage was unpacking the essentials, but everything else sat snug away in boxes that were stacked along his walls. He tells himself everyday that he’s gonna start unpacking, but just looking at them sucked the life out of Dan. He was kicking himself in the ass as he finally noticed how unwelcoming it made his apartment feel.

“This place is huge!” Sydney remarked after she kicked her shoes off. “Do your millionaire parents pay for this place or something?”

Dan laughed a bit too loudly, rubbing his neck. The only thing he was preparing himself for were rude remarks about his decorating skills, or maybe how depressing the bare, white walls made it feel. 

“Rent is actually not bad at all,” Dan said, slipping his own shoes off. “I have to sacrifice eating every once in a while, but it’s manageable.” 

“What, did someone die in here or something?” Belle laughed as she joined Sydney’s excursion around his apartment.

He swallowed nervously as the question echoed throughout his brain. 

Marshall joined them as they went on their own personal tour, and Dan followed nervously behind. There were no noticeable temperature changes, nothing was out of place, no shadow figures stood in the corners of rooms - Maybe all the buzz and energy of other people scared away the demon for tonight.

When they reached Dan’s room, Sydney and Belle spared no time to open his closet and bully him for the lack of color inhabiting his wardrobe. 

“Dan, we _definitely_ need to take you out,” Belle declared, pulling out a black and white striped long sleeve. “I’m sorry but I refuse to let you embrace this sad, minimalist lifestyle.”

He felt like he should be offended, but he couldn't but agree that his wardrobe _had_ been severely neglected over the years of his lackluster adult life.

“I don’t know, I think it’s pretty admirable that he isn’t a compulsive buyer, unlike _somebody_ here.” Marshall stared dead in the eyes of Sydney, a playful smirk stretching across his face.

“Being compulsive insinuates I’m uncontrollable when I am, in fact, very much so aware _and proud_ of my incredibly useful shopping sprees,” Sydney defended.

The rest of the tour consisted of the group asking questions and pointing out the small things in his apartment. They all seemed genuinely interested in Dan, strangely enough, which was something he struggled to understand. His apartment was bleak, yet they still managed to find things that pointed to a personality Dan had been keeping under wraps the entire time they knew him. They were so open to learning about him, and when he managed to pry his eyes from the ground and meet everyone else’s, their faces were always comfortable and kind. 

They eventually settled in the lounge where Dan handed out blankets. He was quick to take the responsibility of getting everyone drinks and snacks. Before leaving to the kitchen, he told the group that if they weren’t huddled up in blankets nice and warm by the time he got back, he was going to kick each and every one of them out. They all laughed, and Dan’s heart got fuzzy. 

“Dan, do you perhaps have any alcohol?” Marshall called from the lounge. 

“I uh- I have a bottle of wine?”

Dan ended up serving wine to everyone, including himself, and poured chips and pretzels into bowls for the group to pick at as they waited for the popcorn to finish. 

Dan was happy that he had decided on getting a second sofa, even though he was convinced that he’d never have friends over. Sydney and Belle helped themselves to the larger one while Marshall sat on the loveseat with Dan. Sydney and Belle were already lost in conversation as they sipped at their wine, and Marshall would occasionally pipe in with his own opinion. It was a running theme. They would argue about something and then Marshall would add his own thoughts that everyone agreed with. They balanced each other out with little to no effort and Dan was envious of it.

He felt so isolated in between them yet he still managed to feel comfortable. Dan sat in the background of their conversation, a subconscious smile tiptoeing itself onto his face as he admired their friendship.

“How do you like having us over so far?” Marshall leaned close to Dan, asking in a quiet voice as he watched Belle and Sydney’s heated debate unfold.

“How do you like _being_ over?” 

“How dare you deflect my question.” Marshall squinted his eyes at Dan, but smiled. “You have wine and food so I’m as happy as a clam.”

“Birthday gifts will be easy then.” Dan raised his own glass up to his mouth.

“Literally, a gift basket of chardonnay and cheese and onion Walkers for my birthday is all that it would take for me to marry you on the spot.”

Dan tried laughing away his childish thoughts. 

“If I knew when your birthday was, I’d start getting that basket ready right now.”

“Guess,” Marshall replied. “If you get it right I’ll buy you a TV stand.” 

Dan rolled his eyes with a smile as he pointed at the tiny ass table keeping his TV up. 

“I’m getting September vibes.” 

“Pretty close.” Marshall raised his eyebrows, a subtle hint of surprise flashing over his face. “December.” 

“Yeah, you definitely don’t strike me as the July type.” 

“You look like an April kinda guy,” Marshall decided.

“April?” Dan laughed. 

“Yeah, because it’s like the month of love or something.”

“What?! The month of love?! Is that the kind of guy I am?” He was sure that the blush creeping up on him was becoming more and more obvious, despite the soft lighting that he could only hope was saving him. 

“You are 100% ‘that kind of guy’, Dan.” Marshall’s eyes grew soft.

In an attempt to kill the conversation before it killed him, he cleared his throat.

“June actually.”

“June? Like, summery sunshine June?” Marshall giggled.

“I swear I was meant to crawl out during the middle of a cold December blizzard but baby Dan had different plans apparently.” 

They both laughed lightly, but Marshall waved Dan off.

“No no no, it’s cute. You and your mysterious ass would totally be a June baby.” He sipped his drink, practically finishing it. 

Their conversation died down some, but Dan’s attention was drawn back to him when he caught Marshall suddenly shiver. 

“You want me to turn the heat up?” Dan asked politely.

“No, no it’s all good. Just got random chills," he assured, pulling his blanket closer.

Dan tried not to overthink it.

~

They had gone through two films and cried their eyes out for each one by the time Sydney decided they needed to do something “cliché” while they were still drunk. It had become very obvious to Dan that Sydney was the leader of the group.

“What do you mean? Do you wanna play spin the bottle or something?”

“No, we’re too comfortable with each other for that to be any fun.” Sydney waved her off.

Dan would have opened his mouth to disagree, but Belle was already squealing with excitement when an idea popped into her head.

“How about never have I ever?” 

“That’s more like it!” Sydney excitedly praised Belle.

Dan and Marshall groaned in unison. 

“Whatever. I’m down.” Marshall gave in, sliding himself from the sofa and onto the floor. Sydney and Belle followed along, and Dan realized this was just another ‘close friend’ habit that he wasn’t a part of.

He joined them though and crossed his legs. 

“Are we taking drinks or using our fingers?” Dan asked.

“We’re drunk enough,” Belle laughed. “Let’s just use our fingers and whoever loses first can like… I don’t know, get punished or something.” 

“Wow, didn’t realize what kind of sleepover this was,” Marshall chuckled.

They all readied themselves, raising two open palms. 

“I’ll go first,” Sydney said confidently. “Never have I ever owned seven of the same black and white striped jumpers.”

Dan rolled his eyes as they all erupted with laughter. 

“Fuck you!” Dan yelled light heartedly, but broke off into laughter with the rest of the group. 

“Never have I ever… Broken into someone’s house,” Sydney said, shrugging.

“I broke into a friend's house,” Marshall offered. 

“What?!”

“It was a Halloween prank!”

“That counts,” Sydney insisted, and he groaned quietly with defeat.

“Never have I ever…” Marshall thought for a long while. “Asked someone out and got rejected.”

No one put their fingers down, but the group mumbled that someone was lying.

“Never have I ever been in a relationship with someone of the same gender,” Belle challenged.

“What do you mean, you literally dated a girl in secondary school,” Sydney shot back

“For like two weeks! That barely counts!”

“You still _technically_ dated her.”

She groaned and put her finger down, realizing her mistake far too late. 

Everyone except Dan put a finger down, and all eyes were on him.

“Don’t tell me there’s a straight guy in our group,” Sydney laughed. 

“No! I mean I don’t- I just, I don’t know.” Dan hadn’t prepared to be confronted about his sexuality like this. He would have avoided the night altogether if he had been warned prior of this very moment. 

“I don’t know. I've- I guess I’ve been curious about it, but I’ve never actually dated a guy.” He forced out an answer, hoping it would suffice.

“Wait so, are you-” Belle was readying another question but she was quickly cut off by Marshall.

“Alright, my turn. Never have I ever wet myself in a friend’s bed.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?! I was ten years old!!” Sydney swatted at him angrily.

Dan's shoulders fell as the attention was quickly averted from him. He had never been so grateful for another human in his life. However, it was quickly brought back to him. 

“Dan’s turn!” Belle declared.

His immediate thought was something immature and crude, but he wasn’t about to have that same question boomerang back to him only for everyone to think he was weird for being too uncomfortable talking about it. His next thought was the demon, because _of course_ it was.

“Never have I ever... Had a paranormal experience.”

Everyone’s faces lit up as their fingers went down.

“Dan, I find it really hard to believe you haven’t had something weird happen to you,” Belle said. “Everyone has!”

“No, I don’t really believe in that stuff.” He rubbed his neck. 

“So, what you’re saying is that something weird probably _has_ happened to you but you’re in denial and just dismiss anything exciting as a coincidence because you’re boring,” Sydney concluded.

“I'm not boring. It's called being a realist. And yes, there is a difference.” 

“My best friend and I used to use an Ouija board regularly,” Marshall jumped in, his tone of voice spooky and serious.

“The same best friend you made out with during dress rehearsal?” Belle wiggled her eyebrows at him.

“That’s irrelevant to this story,” Marshall waved her off, smiling as everyone giggled like highschoolers. “But as I was saying. We found this thing in the dumpster behind our school and we agreed to keep it at Max’s house because, obviously, my parents were crazy religious and would’ve murdered me on the spot.”

“Behind your school in a dumpster?!” Dan laughed, bewildered.

“Right?! Totally fucking weird. Obviously we didn’t think super hard about that, but everyday after school, I went over to his house for about two hours and we just like, messed with it.”

“Majority of the time, nothing happened and we’d move on from it, but a couple times, it got weird. The first time something actually happened, we asked this dumb question and then the planchette moved _very slowly_ to the number seven - completely irrelevant to the question we asked - then tried to move off the board.”

The room was quiet for a moment, as if everyone was thinking.

“Are you sure it wasn’t just your friend messing with you?” Dan protruded in the quiet moment with his skepticism.

“No, there’s no way. We made a pledge.” Marshall’s seriousness made Dan laugh.

“ _A pledge,_ ” He sipped his drink. “Well then, someone was probably _subconsciously_ moving it.”

“Sure, maybe we were,” Marshall accepted. “But six days after that, Max had asked when he was going to die.”

“What?!” Belle blurted. “You _never_ ask questions like that!”

“Lest you forget we were like thirteen- fourteen.” He took a drink of his wine before continuing. “But he asked it that, and this absolutely _crazy strong_ force that we never felt before - Like, I swear, our fingers left the piece for a second - went to the number one.”

Marshall paused for dramatic effect.

“The number one?” Sydney echoed Marshall, confused.

“Yup, and that was it. Whoever we were interacting with just wouldn’t move the planchette anymore, so we put it away for the night.”

“ _One day later_ , Max and his mom almost got in a car accident.”

The air in the room turned ice cold.

“Oh my god.” Belle’s mouth dropped open.

“He told me that a truck driver dozed off and almost hit his mom, but the driver had crazy reflexes and managed to swerve out of the way just in time and land into a ditch. No one was hurt thank god.” 

“That’s good,” Dan said in a quiet voice.

“We stopped using the board completely after that. I have tried to be open to the idea that it was just a ‘manifestation’ kind of thing though.”

Dan’s eyes met Marshall’s, assuming he'd be the happiest to hear this. 

“We were expecting weird stuff to happen, and naturally, when stuff does happen, it’s more obvious. But regardless, you can’t deny how crazy it is.”

Dan couldn’t. 

“No, I agree with you.”

“We should try it,” Sydney offered casually, as if she was insinuating they take a nice stroll through the park. 

“Try what?” Belle’s head whipped to turn to her friend, sounding like she already knew Sydney’s answer but needing reassurance.

“The board. We should buy one and try it.”

“Are you joking?! Literally after that?!” 

“I’m curious! Like, I believe in the paranormal to some extent, but I’ve never really believed in stuff like Ouija boards. I always thought they were mind tricks or something,” Sydney explained.

“I don’t like meddling with that stuff,” Belle admitted. “If you guys want to do that, feel free. I’m fine with watching.” 

“I’m cool with trying it again, as long as we do it seriously,” Marshall said. “How about you, Dan?”

“I- yeah, I mean, I’m not against trying it.” Dan did his best to sound indifferent despite _not_ wanting to in the slightest. “But we’re gonna have to do it another night, yeah? I mean, it’s almost 2 am. Obviously. Nothing’s gonna be open.”

“Yeah, you’re unfortunately right,” Marshall admitted. “But that’s okay because that just means we’ll get to have another sleepover with you.” 

Dan’s insides turned cold. _Of course_ the scary Ouija board session had to be in Dan’s demon apartment.

“Yeah.”

“My ghost story is pretty mellow compared to yours, Marsh’.” Sydney said, sitting back. “I just had an imaginary friend growing up and I’m like 99% sure they were a spirit or something.”

“Uhh, okay ‘isn’t crazy,'” Belle argued.

“It really wasn’t that crazy! He was actually a pretty cool dude when he wasn’t leaving my cupboards open.”

“So you like… You knew him?” Dan asked, the interest poking at him.

“Well, I made this character and then shit started happening so I associated that imaginary friend with whatever ghost spirit was doing the shit.” Her eyes were focused. “In our lounge, the floors were super slanted and I’d always use that floor to roll a ball and pretend my friend was pushing it back.”

“Aw, that’s kind of sad.” Marshall said, a sorry chuckle in his voice.

“It was very sad - But, this one time, I was in my room and I was gonna go to the lounge to do the ball thing, but I dropped my ball and it rolled to the corner of my room. Then it rolled back to me.” 

She paused briefly, assessing everyone’s faces. “And so seven year old me was like ‘Oh sick, my floors are slanted! Now I can play ball in my room!’ So I rolled the ball in the _same exact_ direction and it didn’t roll back to me.” 

Belle hugged her knees and Marshall shoved a couple pieces of popcorn in his mouth.

“So surely I just didn’t roll it to the right place? Highly doubt it. I rolled it like twelve different times in the _same. Exact. Way._ Just trying to get it to work again and then I started freaking myself out so I just stopped.” 

“Then this other time, I was, like, pretending to have a conversation with him about my toys or something like that, and then I mentioned this Care Bears plush I had sitting on a shelf and, I shit you not, _right_ after I pointed at it, it fucking fell.”

Everyone was silent.

“So I ran away screaming of course and my parents said something that Dan would probably say,” Sydney chuckled, and Dan rolled his eyes. “But, over the years, I realized that nothing ever happened unless it involved my imaginary friend. Then after I grew out of him and turned into a boring teenager, all the weird stuff stopped.”

“That’s kinda cool though,” Marshall admitted. “Like you got a whole freakin’ ghost friend!”

“Bummer that I was too young to understand it. I could’ve made him into my own personal snack fetcher or something,” Sydney said sadly.

“What about you Belle?” Dan was shamefully intrigued by something he often looked down upon.

“Oh, well, I mean- I don’t have any crazy stories but there was this one time when a friend and I explored this old abandoned house and found this locked door.”

“The doorknob was rusted or something and the door wouldn’t budge, so my friend dared me to do the knock thing and see if someone answered.”

“Knock thing?” Sydney questioned.

“Like the _bum bum bada bum, bum bum_ knock.” Belle tried explaining.

“So like, I did the first part of the knock thing on the door and then we stood there and waited to see if anyone would do the second part.”

She paused, everyone watching her intensely.

“Bwah!!!” She screeched, and everyone jumped out of their skin.

“You fucker!” Sydney breathed out relieved.

“You’re actually the worst.” Dan laughed, holding his chest.

“I can’t believe that worked!!” Belle laughed hysterically. “Oh my god, that was the best thing in my life.”

Everyone took their turn of calling Belle numerous rude names but she was too busy laughing to be offended by any of it.

“Wait, was your story even real?!” Sydney asked.

“Nope! All bullshit.”

Everyone groaned exasperated.

“I have experienced weird shit though, I just don’t have any interesting stories.”

After everyone calmed down and admitted to Belle that it was pretty funny, Marshall stood up and stretched. 

“I’m gonna go use the bathroom before someone else scares me and my bladder ends up all over Dan’s floor.”

“Gross.” Sydney said quietly, cup to mouth.

Dan reminded Marshall where the bathroom was with a couple directions, and he was off being followed by loud remarks from the group not to die. 

“I’m actually pretty impressed he didn’t wet himself,” Belle giggled.

“I’m impressed that _I_ didn’t wet myself.” Sydney let out a loud, drunken laugh.

“Dan, are you sure that you don’t have any ghost stories?” Belle’s voice was almost a whine.

“Well, there were some weird things that happened to me as a kid, but I doubt any of that was _paranormal-_ ”

“Wait wait- Did you guys hear that?” Belle silenced Dan quickly.

“Bold of you to try that a second time.” Sydney elbowed her, but Belle was stiff.

“No, I’m being dead serious. I-I heard knocking.” 

“What? On the door?” Dan felt panicked.

“No! No, it was like- Over there. I heard the knocking there. It was so weird...” She pointed to the wall behind Dan.

Dan peered behind his shoulder, ready to argue that it was just his neighbors when he was rudely reminded that the wall pointed to the outside. Dark windows leading to a light polluted sky. Pushing away the creeping sense of fear, he turned back to her.

“Are you sure? It might’ve just come from somewhere else.”

“Yes!! I swear, it came from right behind you. It was loud as fuck- How did you guys _not_ hear it?”

Dan and Sydney stared at Belle, then turned to stare at each other. They waited for some kind of laugh. Some kind of confirmation. She didn’t laugh though.

“I’m being _serious!_ ” She argued.

The group was speechless.

“I mean, I don’t know, I’m probably just being paranoid but it just- It sounded so weird.” 

“Weird? Like how?” Dan asked quietly.

“Why are you guys whispering?” 

Everyone yelped, whipping their heads to meet a confused Marshall.

“You didn’t knock, did you?” Belle asked him quickly.

“No?” He assessed everyone’s faces before meeting Belle’s eyes again, a not-so confident smile spreading across his face.

“Why?”

“There was a loud ass knock and it- it sounded like it came from there.” She gestured to the area behind Dan.

“Are you guys trying to scare me?” Marshall let out a sheepish laugh, moving to sit back next to Dan.

“I think she’s being serious.” Sydney said, outstretching an arm to rub Belle’s back.

“Did you guys summon a demon while I was gone or something?” Marshall asked once seated.

“I’m pretty sure I’m just scaring myself.” Belle tried laughing, but there was a nervousness sitting beneath her voice.

The group quickly moved on, but Dan could sense Belle’s unease, even if it was slowly withering in her small laughs and gestures.

They continued their game of never have I ever even though basically everyone had forgotten their score. Dan could feel the wine making him delirious, but he pushed on. 

“Never have I ever been in love.” Dan said with three fingers up.

“Woaaah.” Sydney raised her eyebrows.

Marshall kept his own finger up as Belle and Sydney put theirs down.

“I’ve never been in a relationship to start with.” Marshall explained.

“So you’ve never had a crush before?” Sydney asked skeptically.

“Oh trust me, I’ve had crushes but crushing on people isn’t love. At least it isn’t for me.”

“Yeah, I’d say the same for me.” Dan agreed in a vulnerable voice.

“You’ve never been in a relationship?” Belle asked.

“No, I have but I don’t think I was ever... Genuinely in love,” Dan tried smiling to show he wasn’t as sad as he sounded. “I don’t know, I’ve just never really felt I’ve had a connection with anyone… Maybe I just don’t think I’m supposed to be loved by anyone.”

Everyone was silent after that and Dan felt a surge of embarrassment. The more wine he drank the more he kept talking, and he casually slid his half empty cup on his coffee table, whispering a silent forbidding to slow down on the alcohol. 

“Anyway, Sydney, it’s your turn.” Dan said, desperate to kill the sudden daunting silence.

“Never have I ever _not_ wanted to hug Dan Howell.”

Everyone’s fingers went down simultaneously and Dan stared surprised. He couldn’t help but feel himself shrink as he understood the loving yet worried eyes.

Belle was the first to get on her knees and shuffle to Dan, gently pulling him into a tight hug. Marshall was the second, leaning his body over to embrace both Dan and Belle. Sydney quickly joined in, and Dan felt heat build in his nose and cheeks.

“We love you, Dan,” Belle said, her voice filled with heartbreaking truth.

“Yeah, you big idiot! Stop being a sad drunk at our sleepover.” Sydney’s demeanor was perpetually playful, but there was undeniable compassion.

“Hey, stop it! I’m fine- I love you guys too!” Dan tried fighting them away with laughter and embarrassment.

Everyone eventually pulled away and Dan rubbed the wetness from his eyes.

“You know we’re all here for you right?” Belle grabbed Dan’s shoulders assertively. “You know we love you, right?!”

“Yes, I promise,” Dan chuckled.

“We will be here for you no matter what.” Belle’s bottom lids started building up a small tide of tears.

“Okay, Belle. Detach your grip from the man.” Sydney took control. “She’s a very emotional drunk.”

“I’m not even drunk!” She defended, wiping her eyes.

“Belle’s right though. We’ll always be here for you, Dan.” Marshall rubbed Dan’s back. “You’re our friend.”

Dan could feel his own bottom lip begin to quiver.

“Shut up.” His voice was pitiful but he laughed over it. “This isn’t fair, stop making me cry.”

Everyone laughed with him through a strain of both compassion and sadness. There was one last group hug shared before everyone calmed their emotions.

“I’m pretty sure I saw Marshall go out, by the way,” Sydney said.

“Guilty as charged,” Marshall put his hands up. “What’s my punishment?”

Everyone glanced at each other, unaware of what kind of evil deed they were going to put Marshall up to.

“I think Marshall should confess his undying love for Dan.” Sydney laughed sarcastically, and both Belle and Marshall joined in with her.

Dan laughed along with them nervously, hoping this remained as a joke.

Their laughs were cut short though when a horribly loud thud was heard. The sound bounced off the bare walls of Dan’s dark apartment and left everyone frozen. 

The group peered at each other silently. They all waited for the same thing, whether it’d be another loud, mysterious noise or for someone to make the first move. 

“Did that come from in here?” Sydney was the first to talk, and her voice was careful. 

“Something probably fell, hold on,” Dan, after succumbing back to reality, quickly got on his feet with a determination to bring reassurance to the group.

“Don’t die, please!” Sydney called after Dan.

Dan’s first bet was his bedroom, being as most of the activity came from in there. He opened the door and flicked the light switch on. Clothes lay on his floor innocently, no boxes were flipped over - Nothing was out of place. 

Dan glanced at his piano and saw the lid was up, and he sighed angrily at himself. He slid the lid over the keys, and hesitantly left after shutting the light off and closing his door. 

The next room he checked was his bathroom which was a bit bare bones. Still, nothing was out of the ordinary.

Passing through the lounge in order to check out his kitchen, the group threw him questions.

“No, I haven’t found anything,” Dan answered.

“We’re definitely gonna die tonight,” Marshall decided. “Dan, could we all cuddle with you when we go to bed?”

The group voiced their mutual agreement loudly as Dan scoped out his kitchen.

“Whatever that noise was, I think it came from upstairs or something,” Dan announced, his mind completely elsewhere.

“You didn’t find anything?”

“No, nothing. Unless the pipes are raving in the walls or something, I don’t know.” Dan eased in a small joke for the tense group, and they snickered appreciatively.

Dan made jokes, but he could feel his anxiety steadily rise. He only prayed that whatever was happening would stop and that his friends would have a peaceful night’s rest when the time came. He slipped back into his spot on the floor with a busy mind, trying his best to push back the noise of his thoughts to focus on the conversation.

It had something to do with Marshall’s ‘legitimate’ punishment involving old drama Dan wasn’t aware of. He would’ve tried to piece together what it was, but his energy was depleting. He turned on his phone for the first time since the friends arrived and saw it was nearly 3 AM. 

_‘Bailey would be proud,'_ Dan thought to himself.

~

Dan had found himself being awoken by a quiet voice and gentle shaking. He pried his tired eyes open after he remembered he had guests and saw Marshall. 

“Hey, I’m sorry to wake you up, but everyone’s asleep and I’d feel bad if you slept on your sofa instead of your bed,” He whispered.

“Oh- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” Dan pushed himself up, his voice tired and rough.

He felt something soft fall from his shoulders and noticed that a blanket had been draped over him. The lights were off and there was a documentary playing on his TV. Belle and Sydney were laying on the opposite sides of Dan’s sofa fast asleep, a shared blanket tucked into them.

Dan rubbed his face groggily as Marshall moved to sit back on the loveseat. 

“What time is it?” 

“Like 4 I think?”

“Jesus… I have therapy at 9.” Dan groaned.

“What?! Why didn’t you tell us? We wouldn’t have kept you awake for so long.” 

“Yeah because it’s not like I’ve let you guys down enough times.” Dan didn’t mean to let that thought slip out of his mouth. He cursed his incoherence.

“Dan, you don’t let us down.” Marshall’s voice was sorry.

“I know I know, I didn’t mean to say that…” Dan looked down at his hands. “I’m sorry, I do stuff like that when I’m tired and drunk.”

Dan felt a soft hand begin to rub circles on his back. He could feel his worried eyes burning in the side of his head. He wanted to run away but another part of him just wanted to tear down the 500 foot brick wall he’s been working so hard to keep up and cry. 

“I- I’m really grateful to have you guys. I promise I am,” Dan whispered.

“We’re grateful to have you.”

Dan tried his best to believe him. 

“Okay, I’ll stop being sad and let you sleep,” Dan said, flashing him a smile before standing up. 

“Will you be okay?” 

Marshall’s voice was too concerned. Too worried. Dan didn’t want him to be worried. His friends weren’t supposed to be questioning his well being. Dan only wanted to be a good friend. 

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine,” Dan gave him the most reassuring smile he could. “Goodnight. Wake me if you need anything.”

“Goodnight, Dan.” 

Upon walking in his dark room, he noticed a difference in temperature. It was subtle, but it was there, and for the first time, the familiarity of the cold gave him relief.

Dan let gravity take his body as he flopped onto his bed. He wrestled with his covers and curled into a safe ball.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Words: 5173

Every time Dan steps into his office, the first thing his eyes dart to is Bailey’s left hand. He awaits secretly for the day he will be completely disconnected from his fantasies. Fortunately, today was not that day.

“I had friends over yesterday,” Dan started. “And I wish I didn’t. Kinda. I don’t know.”

“Oh?” Bailey’s leg was crossed and his eyes watched him gently.

“They’re such wonderful people, but I just kind of… Barged in,” Dan admitted. “I got a little drunk and I kept saying things and they kept comforting me and it made me feel worse.”

“At least you know they care about you!” He attempted to be optimistic.

“I think that’s why I’m so upset,” Dan stated. “They kept asking questions and they wanted to know more and they just… They were trying so hard to be involved with me and it just made me feel terrible.”

“I couldn’t… I couldn’t be a good friend. I couldn’t be honest. I couldn’t do anything.”

Bailey hummed in understanding, but allowed Dan to further unfold.

“There was one point where they were talking about- they were bringing up stuff I wasn’t comfortable opening up about.”

“Ohh, was it…?” Dr. Bailey had an inkling of what it was, and asked with an understanding silence.

Dan hadn’t brought _it_ up a lot with Bailey, but he always did his best to respect that part he struggled with. Dan could see it.

“Yeah, it was.” Dan’s head fell. “And they started asking me about it and I- I felt angry.”

“With yourself?” Bailey asked.

“Well, yeah, but them too… Like, why did they care? And why did _I_ care that _they_ cared? Why were they so comfortable with it? And why wasn’t I? Why couldn’t I have just- Why do I care?!” Dan felt frustration building in him, and he tried hard to swallow it.

“It’s okay, Dan. It’s okay that you care. It’s okay that you aren’t as comfortable as they are. You are a completely different person with a completely different story; that doesn’t make you any less deserving of respect.” 

Dan nodded, listening to words he’s heard before but appreciating them nonetheless.

“I think it’s very important that you stand up for yourself if this happens again. The struggle of understanding yourself is a journey, and having people poke at you- to have this very vulnerable part of you treated like a science experiment-” Bailey’s eyes were compassionate and caring. “You don’t deserve that in the slightest. But your friends need to understand where that boundary is.”

Dan knew he was probably right, but he felt a large hole beginning to swallow him.

“I shouldn’t have to establish boundaries. It should be a given not to ask people invasive questions.” Dan’s voice was low.

“You’re right, it should be. But unfortunately, not everyone has that mentality.” Bailey was gentle. “But It sounds like your friends love you a lot, and I think a great place to start opening up is to tell them what you need from them and what’s the best way they can support you.”

Dan met Bailey’s eyes, a thin sheet of worry glazed over the darkness of his irises.

“You don’t need to tell them anything you aren’t ready to. A simple ‘Hey, I’m not comfortable talking about this’ is really all you need to get that ball rolling.”

He appreciated Bailey with every fiber in his body, but sometimes the things he deemed “simple” were the most difficult for Dan to do. It’s hard enough to say yes to hanging out with a group of friends, but it was a completely different story to stand up for himself.

“I know… You’re right. I’ll try my best.” Dan said weakly as Bailey started jotting something down.

There was a moment where Dr. Bailey wasn’t a therapist, and the professional line that divided them was broken. He met Dan’s eyes with genuine compassion and understanding.

“I know you will, Dan.” 

Dan’s eyes instinctively darted away and he resentfully let his face burn. 

~

Dan stepped out of the shower and clung tightly onto his towel. The chilly air sent shivers down his wet body and made his teeth chatter like a wind-up toy. 

_‘Damn building…’_ Dan silently whispered to himself, reaching a hand through the flap of his towel and yanking the door open.

He scuttled to his bedroom, trying his best to dry himself off without sacrificing the warmth of the only cover he had. Desperate, he struggled to put clothes on despite his skin and hair still being slick with moisture. As much as he would’ve rather saved from the awful texture of wet-on-dry stickiness, he didn’t really feel like waiting for his lips to turn blue either. 

Towel draped over his head, he wrapped himself up with his duvet and sighed. 

He decided on getting to work with his boxes, but he only got so far until he remembered he hadn’t showered. Dan did his best to cover up his obvious procrastination with the bold assurance that his hygiene was much more important. 

He stared bitterly at the open box overflowing with random junk that he didn’t know why he decided to keep.

When Dan _finally_ found a place he could afford, he was excited for lack of a better word. He spared no time going through things to decide what was important, what was donatable, and what was better off finding a home in a landfill. He threw everything and anything into boxes like his house was on fire, got in his parents’ car, and didn’t look back. It would’ve been more dramatic if Dan had his own car, but he had to settle for his mom driving him to the long-awaited place he’d hope to call home. 

Of course, had there not been an obnoxious demon living rent-free under his nose like a rat, he might’ve considered calling it home.

He scanned his room, still trying to figure out the most practical layout. His eyes met his piano which, annoyingly, had it’s lid up again. 

Grumbling, he escaped his warm cocoon in order to get up, and then closed its lid firmly. It bothered Dan that he didn’t remember the last time he left it up. 

Dan re-met the three boxes sprawled out across the perimeter of his room, and he rubbed his face, continuing to beat himself up for his lack of initiative moving out. 

Instead of getting back to work, he decided that finding his phone in order to stare at it for the next 5 hours was much more important. 

Surprisingly, he found it sat quietly on his coffee table and not on top of his fridge (or somewhere else equally ridiculous). He turned it on and flopped himself onto his sofa. 

There was a text message from Sydney and the groupchat that they all insisted on adding him into. Dan opened Sydney’s message first despite his impulse telling him to just ignore it until he forgets about it. 

**Sydney** : guess what i booouuuggghtttt >:] MWAHAHAHAH

Dan exhaled deeply when was met with a wonderful picture of Sydney sticking out her tongue and confidently holding up the box of an Ouija board. Dan was kind of upset that his phone hadn’t been hidden in some ridiculous place now.

**Dan** : yaaayyy im excited to get sucked into the demon realm

He then turned his attention to the groupchat, which had plenty more messages for Dan.

**Sydney** : you will all be glad to know that i bought the board today 

Below her message was a similar picture, except the facial expression she pulled in this one was a bit less patronizing.

**Marshall** : wooooooo

 **Belle** : o _ o’’

 **Marshall** : which graveyard are we meeting at

 **Belle** : NO!!!!! 

**Sydney** : dan get over here and tell us when we can come over and summon cthulhu

There were no more messages, and Dan knew everyone was patiently awaiting an answer from him.

 _It’s just a stupid toy,_ Dan assured himself.

**Dan** : im free tomorrow 

  
  


Despite his adamance that the board was no more than a plastic toy with letters on it, he immediately regretted hitting send. 

~

Dan managed to finish one box before the sun had completely hid beneath the city’s horizon.

Dan used to hate the sun. Used to hate that, with it, came people and work and exhaustion. Now, in the depths of his cold, haunted apartment, he longed for that ghastly ball of flames to protect him from the unknown. Of course, whether the haunting was due to some unstoppable mythical force or the darkness of Dan’s own mind was a mystery that he both desperately wanted to solve but also shove ruthlessly in the back of some poor old cupboard and forget about.

He had successfully hung two things on his sad walls, which looked horribly inappropriate and silly among the rest of his naked room, but it was progress, and that’s all Dan needed.

He laid his back down on his bed and felt an unfamiliar yet welcomed feeling of sleepiness pull down on his eyelids. Dan stretched out his limbs, yawned, and got up to begin his nightly ritual. He needed to snatch up this opportunity fast and get into bed while the need for sleep lasted.

He brushed his teeth, changed into his comfiest pajamas, and sat at the edge of his bed, silent.

_You can do this._

Dan crawled under his covers in the same position he couldn’t break from in fear of facing his doom, breathed in shakily, and closed his eyes.

He let his mind drift off into the silence of his room, doing his best to focus on a calm universe where he was its gentle controller. He created beautiful utopias where both him and every fictional character he’s ever loved lived together harmoniously, untouched by everything bad.

Slowly, he started to feel his body relax and a comforting, blissful sense of sleep envelope him. His mind started to wander gingerly over the line that divided consciousness and rest, up until he was abruptly yanked away from his every hope and dream, like a bungee jumper saved by their trusty bungee line.

A weight. A horrible, nauseating weight. Dan’s eyes shot open as if he were being awoken by his alarm clock, but his body didn’t flinch, conditioned to its primal instinct of stillness.

Dan allowed his body to naturally flow with the depression caused by whatever laid itself behind him, even if getting closer to it made him light-headed with fear. Dan tried his absolute hardest not to make it obvious that he was awake, so he kept his shoulders loose and breathing steady.

He could feel the impulse creeping up on him to cry and scream and run out of his bedroom though. Run from his room, out his apartment, down the stairs, out the front door, down the street and to the nearest police station. But he laid there quietly, too scared to even blink. 

His lungs seized when he felt the weight move closer and his back get colder. Dan could feel his body begin to cramp under the pressure of his consciousness to keep his limbs as still as possible. He felt the need to scratch his head and sigh and stretch and yawn, right behind the desire to flip over and see who was torturing him practically every night. 

Dan couldn’t move though. His body was so unnaturally calm that he started to carefully gnaw at his bottom lip for some kind of relief. The thing behind him was almost so still that Dan could’ve forgotten about it, had there not been a weight pulling him towards whatever hellish creature lay mere inches away.

After his body came to register the true essence of this situation, it started to shake. Albeit subtle shaking but shaking that Dan had been internally cursing and yelling and screaming to stop. He couldn’t stop the shaking, nor could he stop the build-up of tears that embraced his wide, horror-filled eyes with empathy. 

But it wasn’t the weight that caused Dan’s soul to leave his body. It wasn’t the ice-cold air that draped over his entire back like icing. No. It was a touch. A small, undoubtable touch Dan felt on his lower back, something that has never happened through the course of all these horrible experiences.

Dan’s body jolted up as if he had gotten electrocuted, and he screamed like he never had in his entire life. He darted to the floor, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He wailed and crawled and jumped and kicked, moving every way a human possibly could and couldn’t until he was finally out of his bedroom. On his beaten knees, slammed against his wooden floors, he yanked the bedroom door shut without looking into it. 

He fell backwards, his back hitting against the wall. His breathing was shallow and fast, and slowly, all the pent-up fear and anguish piled in his soul started to seep out from his eyes.

He laid against his wall and hugged himself as he cried. The adrenaline pumping through his body gave him a blistering migraine. He couldn’t process anything. All he could do was curl in a ball and hope that he would survive. He didn’t know what exactly he was hoping to survive from though. 

Eventually, he would calm down, but no matter how coherent he was, Dan’s soul was eternally distraught and shaken.

The demon touched him. He had been grazed by something that was real. He could still feel the part on his back that was touched and it burned. It burned a hole in his skin, in his soul, in his mind, and it burned through every attempt Dan made to find excuses.

This was no longer Dan “losing his mind”. It was no longer a silly argument he had with himself when he experienced paranoia or odd bumps in the night. It was real. It was _so_ real, and a part of Dan died admitting it, and another part was born. 

He sat there for what felt like days until he finally mustered the courage to stand up. His legs were jello and his head hurt with exhaustion, but nonetheless, he rose. He dragged his feet to his lounge and sunk into his sofa. He sat there, listening to the patronizing silence.

He saw his laptop sat on his loveseat, and upon seeing its silver color, still so distinguishable in the darkness, he had an epiphany. He reached for it, opened it and effortlessly tapped in his password. Then he made a new text document and started writing.

  
  


_thomas bailey,_

_i lied to you, but if it makes you feel any better, i lied to myself too. i don’t get sleep paralysis. never have. the truth is that there’s a demon in my bed, and it sleeps with me every night because it knows. it knows everything.. i want you to like me. that’s not your job though. of course it isn’t. you don’t get paid enough to love people. fuck, you don’t get paid enough for talking to me. your job is to help me, not love me. as much as i would like to tell myself it is. but i’ll still lie to you because your eyes are pretty and you have nice teeth. that’s really weird. sorry._

_i lie to my friends, i lie to my family, i lie to myself, because i just want everyone to like me and the demon knows it._

_i hate the demon. i hate it with every fiber in my goddamn body because it knows i lie. it’s the only one who knows how much i lie. it’s a constant reminder. it knows my deepest darkest secrets and my fears and my nightmares and it’s tearing me apart. i hate that it knows me. i hate it so much. sorry._

_\- dan_

  
  


Dan exhaled shakily, a soft heat sat snug in his face. It felt relieving, even if the words left a bitter taste in his mouth. He could only imagine the feeling of admitting these things to someone because Lord knew he didn’t have the strength to say a single thing out loud without falling apart.

He saved the document though, just in case he ever needed it. Dan shut his laptop slowly with a deep, tired sigh and stared quietly into the empty space of his apartment with a look of defeated indifference.

~

**Marshall** : we’ll be like 20 minutes late. belle forgot her phone lol

 **Dan** : its all good, i needed extra time to finish the food anyway

 **Marshall** : we’re getting dinner? :0 omg what a treat. what did you make

 **Dan** : no spoilers !

 **Marshall** : booooooooooo

 **Marshall** : sydney told me to tell you not to burn the house down before we get there

 **Dan** : too late. entire building is in flames. fire brigade are on their way. oh no they didnt get here in time. i am burning

 **Marshall** : noooooooo rest in peace dan. you and your striped jumpers will be missed

 **Dan** : we will not miss you

  
  


Dan put his phone down to attend to his curry and when he saw a message from Marshall, which consisted of several angry faces, he smiled.

He had only made curry once, and the one time he did, he somehow managed to burn his rice to a horrible crunch. It may have been a bad decision to cook food he wasn’t comfortable making, but Dan didn’t want to ignore his random craving for it. 

When Dan finished the food, he had taken the liberty of setting up his coffee table with readied bowls and glasses of water. He topped the cake off with a bottle of wine he specially bought for the occasion. The type of occasions no one looks forward to, that is. 

He was hoping that the session would last less than 2 minutes and they’d spend the rest of their visit doing something harmless and nice. Talk about life. Maybe the weather. Anything really.

Dan had just sat down when a loud buzz emitted from his intercom. He jogged to the button to let them in, and unlocked his door quickly.

Soon enough, the friends were walking in with comfortable greetings following close. The hugs were littered with light apologies for being late and remarks about the delicious aroma dancing around Dan’s apartment.

Dan eyed the bags Belle and Sydney held.

“I’m sure you’ll all appreciate the amount of effort I put into my dining set-up.” Dan gestured to his coffee table after the group removed their shoes. 

“Wow, you went all out!” Sydney remarked. “It’s good that you did this. The demons need to feel cozy.”

Dan tried laughing. 

They all sat on the floor across from each other. Dan and Marshall on one side, Belle and Sydney on the other. Upon sitting down, Belle started fishing through the bag she had.

“Alright so, I’m not going to be participating, but I brought some of my crystals and candles just for safety.”

Dan watched her place four large rocks onto his table. His best guess was some type of quartz. 

“I also brought some magnetite bracelets.” She handed everyone their own bracelet and Dan slipped his on with curiosity.

“Do you have bullet proof vests for us too?” Dan asked, and everyone giggled.

“Darn! Forgot those at home.” Belle laughed with everyone as she pulled out a long, white candle. “Look, you can never be too careful with these kinds of things.” 

Dan respected her precautions, even if he felt it was very unnecessary. He couldn’t deny the fact that the miscellaneous items _did_ calm his nerves though.

“Should we eat first, or…?” Dan asked, fiddling with the magnets on his bracelet.

Marshall was already shoveling food in his mouth when Dan asked.

“Yeah, let’s eat first!” Belle decided.

“I haven’t had curry in like- a million years.” Sydney’s voice was enthusiastic and colorful as she picked up her own bowl. “Thank you for cooking, Dan. You know you didn’t have to.”

“It’s the least I could do before we all get possessed,” Dan joked.

“Fuck, this is so good,” Marshall said, his mouth full.

A young conversation sprouted amongst the group when Dan brought up his disastrous first attempt at making curry a couple years back. They all found light amusement from it, and Sydney went on to add her own story about disastrous cooking.

“If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t know you were supposed to cook pasta with water,” Dan added, eating his own spoonful of curry. “And it’s not like I was a kid or anything. I was an adult. A full grown adult.” 

There was an eruption of laughter throughout the friends and a refusal to believe him. The stories evolved into more ridiculous -- yet self-esteem-raising -- stories about how bad everyone was at cooking. 

“You make some pretty damn good curry though,” Sydney reassured after Dan finished his tangent about another embarrassing cooking disaster.

“You all got lucky today.” 

There was an excitement around the table that Dan wasn’t a part of, leaving the friends to finish their bowls before Dan could barely blink. He assured them that there was more curry if they wanted seconds, but they were apparently too excited about the board to take up his offer.

Dan, still eating, stared hypnotized at the large box Sydney pulled out. She moved aside some stuff on Dan’s table and placed the unopened box in the dead center. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to play, Belle?” Sydney asked, her voice almost a whine.

“No way. I’ve read enough stories to have a very confident _negative_ stance on Ouija boards,” She said.

“Well with that mindset you sure as hell won’t get any ghost friends.”

“And I’m perfectly fine with that!” She raised her hands up. “I don’t trust the dead.”

Marshall, returning from the kitchen after washing his bowl, wiped his hands on his pants.

“Oh- Marsh’, hit the lights,” Sydney commanded.

When he finally found the light switch, he flipped them off with confidence Dan didn’t have (yet longed for). He sat back next to Dan who was scooping the last remaining bits of the curry into his mouth as if it were the last thing he were going to ever eat. Dan hesitantly put his bowl aside once it was empty.

It almost felt like Dan was having an out-of-body experience watching Sydney open the box as if it were a Christmas present. Belle lit the candles silently beside her with ease, her posture and face comfortable. Dan peered over at Marshall who seemed to be enjoying the scene, and he swallowed. 

Dan rolled his bracelet to his palm so he could grip it. 

Once Sydney peeled the plastic off in its entirety, she lifted up the cover, and slowly, the board was revealed in all its ridiculously menacing glory. Sydney quickly pried it out along with the planchette, removing the box from the table shortly thereafter. 

The board was the pupil of Dan’s table, protective crystals and candles surrounding it like irises. 

“Alright, ground rules.” Marshall situated himself. “We’re going to take this seriously. No moving the planchette, no stupid questions, and absolutely _no_ disrespecting anything we come in contact with. Do you all understand?”

Marshall’s demeanor, once gentle and easy going, was suddenly very serious, and Dan gripped even tighter onto his bracelet.

Dan and Sydney turned to nod at each other in mutual agreement.

“Especially you, Belle! If you pull any of your cruel jokes--”

“No, I swear on my life! No more.” Belle laughed, but she was genuine.

“Alright. Rule two, under no circumstances are we to take our hands off the planchette until we say goodbye.”

Dan nodded in understanding with Sydney. 

“I think those are the biggest things to remember. I’ve read in some articles that if the planchette starts moving in figure eights or down the alphabet, it’s something evil trying to escape the board, but I don’t know much I believe that,” Marshall added casually. “Honestly, if you get bad feelings at all, just end the session.” 

Dan didn’t believe any of it, so why was his heart pounding?

“Alright, are we ready?” 

Dan sure as hell wasn’t, but he followed along with Marshall and Sydney who put their index and middle finger down on the piece with confidence. Everyone was quiet for a moment, peering at each other. Belle eyed everyone inquisitively, and then Marshall took a deep breath in.

“Hello, is there anyone who would like to speak with us?” Marshall asked, his voice clear and confident. 

There was dead silence between all the friends as they waited, but nothing happened. 

“If anyone would like to communicate, please move the planchette to the answer ‘yes,’” Marshall instructed.

They all sat silently once again, and waited. 

But nothing happened.

This time, Sydney asked, “is there anyone there who would like to talk to us?” 

They waited. And waited. And waited. Still nothing. There was a brief look around the room, the group not really knowing what to do. 

“If someone is there, please let us kn--”

The planchette moved very suddenly. It was a small push, but it was undeniable that it moved. Dan gasped quietly upon the movement, briefly feeling as though it were going to fly away from underneath his finger tips. 

“Holy shit,” Sydney whispered. “None of you did that right?” 

Dan shook his head furiously, and Marshall quickly said no.

“That- that felt so weird,” Sydney’s voice was filled with blinding astonishment.

"I know right?" Marshall agreed enthusiastically, but kept his composure.

All Dan could do was gawk. The movement was undeniably _alien_. That's the best way Dan could think to describe it. ‘ _Surely someone moved it. Someone flinched. Surely everyone is pulling a sick prank on me.’_

“What is your name?” Marshall asked, his voice unwavering. 

Once again, they sat patiently, but the silence was replaced with a buzz in the air from everyone who witnessed the activity. However, the planchette did not move. 

“It moved when Sydney started talking,” Belle said quietly.

“What is your name?” Sydney quickly repeated Marshall’s question.

But once again, it was immobile.

“Dan, maybe you should ask,” Sydney suggested.

“Uh-” Dan panicked, then cleared his throat. “What’s your name?”

The anticipation of waiting was practically suffocating everyone. 

Dan felt ridiculous for participating in this. His heart pounded, and he was embarrassed to admit that he was _actually_ scared. Like, come on. This is a toy! All the stories surrounding it are fabricated. It's not going to move again.

But then, it did. The planchette started moving. It was legitimate, consistent movement. Not a sneeze, not a budge - _movement._ It was slow though, like a cat creeping up on its prey. 

Everyone watched in amazement as it inched slowly to the corner of the board, only to stop on the letter Z. 

“Z…” Belle uttered, voluntarily keeping track of the letters.

Then, it started creeping, equally slowly, to the opposite corner of the board. 

“A,” Belle once again stated. 

Then it moved two letters down, a bit quicker this time.

“C.”

With even greater speed, it moved a couple more letters down.

“K.” 

“Zack? Is that your name?” Marshall asked.

But it kept moving. 

“S, T…” Belle kept track, watching it move along the board. “R… I… K… E, R.”

“S, t, r… Zack Striker?” Sydney asked for confirmation. “Are we speaking to Zack Striker?” 

It was at that moment that Dan understood. His shoulders fell, and exhaled with relief as a weight was lifted from his soul. 

He almost laughed over how silly it all was. _Zack Striker?_ Are you kidding? All the suspense, all the talk -- Dan couldn’t believe they had Belle bring crystals, bracelets, and candles to sell the idea that they were actually taking this seriously. He loosened his death grip on his bracelet and lounged back a little, confident in his belief that this was all a sick prank on Dan. 

They all knew Dan didn't believe in this, so why _wouldn't_ they take that as an opportunity to scare him? It made too much sense for Dan to go back on his theory. 

He nearly blurted out how ridiculous they were being, but he kept it to himself, wanting them to have fun with this for just a little longer. 

The planchette started moving again.

“J, K…” Belle read out. 

“JK? Is that someone’s initials?” Sydney asked.

Dan almost couldn’t keep in his laughter, or how badly he wanted to roll his eyes.

“Maybe the ghost knows internet slang,” Dan said, shrugging his shoulders. “Like _just kidding?_ Jk?”

Dan situated himself, “Alright, give it up, I know you guys are moving it.” 

Nobody laughed with him though. They all just stared, faces bewildered by his certainty. 

“I’m not moving it.” Sydney peered over at Marshall, lost.

“I told you I was gonna take this seriously.” Marshall met Dan’s eyes, wide and confused.

He assessed Marshall’s eyes with refusal. Then, he met Sydney’s blinking gaze, who had practically the same dumbfounded look.

There was no way. There was absolutely no way. He could feel the panic wanting to take over his body again, but he was so sure that it was a joke and he wasn’t going to deliver them the satisfaction of his fear.

“Come on. _Zack Striker? Jk?_ This is obviously- You guys are pulling a prank or something.” Despite his confidence, he felt himself crumbling beneath the weight of their eyes.

They all turned to look at each other, still confused by Dan’s desperation, almost as if it were the craziest thing in the world that he'd be questioning them so adamantly.

“No, we promise we’re not,” Marshall laughed, but it was only to soothe his worries. “We all made a promise not to move it.” 

They were so casual about it. They were so comfortable. It had to be a joke. It _had_ to be. He wanted it to be a prank so bad. He wanted it at all to be fake. He wanted them to all start laughing and say how funny Dan’s reaction was, but they didn’t. They just stared at him like he was an idiot.

Before Dan could argue further, he felt the planchette move again. The force was so abrupt that his fingertips lost their grip of it for a split second, but the pure, ridiculous fear that Marshall instilled in him about keeping his fingers on the piece made him jolt back to the planchette.

He watched it though, more horrified than he was when they started. Dan followed it, the movement indescribably surreal. His ability to breathe was completely gone.

“P…” Belle said. 

“H,” Sydney said.

“I…” Marshall said.

“L,” Dan breathed out.

They all looked up at each other.

“Phil?” Sydney questioned. “Is that- your actual name?”

After a brief moment, it started moving up to the answer _‘Yes'._


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Words: 3776

Dan was on his guard. He was petrified. His mouth sat agape. His insides quivered and churned, but he did his absolute best to keep his feet on the ground. 

“Hi, Phil. It’s nice to meet you,” Marshall said respectfully. “If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you?”

The piece didn’t move from its comfortable spot on the board, the perfect embodiment of a rock.

“Maybe you should keep talking, Sydney.”

“What can I say, ghosts love me.” Sydney shrugged. “Phil, do you dislike Marshall?”

“Don’t ask them that!” Belle whisper yelled. “You’re gonna provoke it!”

The planchette moved quickly from its spot directly back to the answer ‘Yes,’ sitting once again over the letters pleasantly.

Everyone except for Dan laughed. He had barely moved since the group learned their name. 

“No hard feelings,” Marshall laughed lightheartedly. 

“How old are you, Phil?” Sydney asked. 

A moment passed where it didn’t move, but with a little less confidence, the piece moved to the numbers 3 and 1.

“31? About our age, that’s pretty neat.” Sydney was pleased. “Do you wanna be a part of the _Cool Dood Club?_ That’s our group name.”

“What did we say about stupid questions? Take this seriously!” Belle elbowed her, a tint of worry stained in her hushed voice.

They followed their fingers with the planchette’s movement, watching as it scraped itself to ‘Yes’ in response to Sydney’s question.

“Oh, calm down. We’ll be fiiine, I’m not getting any malicious energy, are you guys?”

“Even though Phil hates me, I feel fine.” Marshall turned to Dan, who was as stiff as a board. “How about you, Dan? Are you okay?”

Being brought back to the real world, he frantically met everyone’s gazes and swallowed.

“Y-yeah no, I’m fine. I feel fine.”

“Are you sure?” Dan’s distraught paleness was as obvious as the nose on his face, and Marshall wasn’t afraid to express his worry. “We can stop if you’d like, I promise it’s not a problem.” 

“No, I’m fine. I just- I’m still convinced you guys are pranking me,” Dan said, trying his absolutely damn hardest to laugh. It took every ounce of energy left in him, and even the mere huff of laughter was too much.

“We’re not, Dan,” Marshall assured gently. “We wanted to do this to see if it would work. I know for a fact Sydney isn’t moving it and I can promise you I’m not.”

“Dan, this is real,” Sydney said, her blue eyes piercing him with its excitement and passion. Her undying love for the words she spoke made Dan’s stomach fall.

That was the last thing he wanted to hear.

“Ask them something none of us would know,” Belle offered, and everyone agreed with her idea.

It had to be fake. It had to be a prank. This had to be the way that they were all going to confess to their evil scheme.

“Yeah, ask something the ghost would know that _we_ wouldn’t know,” Sydney elaborated.

“How the hell am I supposed to know what that would be?” Dan furrowed his eyebrows with frustration

The only response Dan received were shrugs, so he sighed and met the board once again. He thought long and hard about it, and it only made his headache worse. The annoyance, exhaustion, and terror was feasting off of Dan’s soul and he wanted it to stop. 

What would a fake entity know more about Dan than his own friends? And why were they dragging this out for so long? He obviously caught on, so why were they still going on with it?

“Okay, _Phil.”_ The name spilled out of Dan’s mouth mockingly. A bitter acid fueled his voice, desperate to end this. 

“If you’re so goddamn real, how about you tell me what happened last night.” Anger was piling in Dan at a remarkable speed.

The group turned their heads at each other curiously, and Dan’s hand started to tremble, but he stared resentfully at the stagnant piece on the board.

To Dan’s horror though, it started moving.

“V…” Belle read, even quieter than the last time she read out the letters.

“I… S…”

The speed at which it moved along the board had decreased substantially, and that almost made Dan even angrier.

“I… T.” Belle finished. “Visit…?”

It was horrible. The wave of emotions slapped Dan so hard that it left his Earth shaken and ablaze, and several thousand tsunamis came with unwanted remorse to wash away the fire in Dan’s eye.

“End it,” Dan mumbled. “Please, I don’t want to play anymore.”

Sydney and Marshall said goodbye for Dan immediately, and slowly - almost hesitantly - the planchette moved to ‘Goodbye.’ 

“Dan…” Marshall outstretched a hand, but stopped midway.

He pulled his knees up to his face, trying to save what little dignity he had left.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin this.” Dan’s voice trembled embarrassingly. 

“Dan, oh my God, no no no.” Sydney crawled to Dan to comfort him like the big sister she often presented herself as. “You didn’t ruin anything. That was an overwhelming experience, you’re fine. You’re okay.”

She rubbed Dan’s back, but it only made him feel worse.

“Yeah, Sydney’s right. It was all very overwhelming.” He heard Belle’s caring voice behind the war in his head.

Dan exhaled. Once again, his friends circled him, unknowing of everything, and once again, he battled with the two parts in him that wanted every opposite thing. 

The burden of a Gemini. 

“I’m sorry,” Dan said again, raising his head to sniff away his snot and clean his flooded eyes. 

“It’s okay. There’s nothing to apologize for,” Marshall assured.

“I’m such a downer. I don’t… I’m sorry… I just wanted you guys to enjoy yourselves.” He knew he was making it worse, and his voice strained beneath their restrictions. “I don’t mean to be like this all the time.”

“Hey, we understand…” Belle said, who had crawled closer. 

_You don’t. None of you do._

“This is just embarrassing, honestly,” Dan laughed, but there was no humor in his voice.

“There’s nothing embarrassing about crying,” Sydney declared. “We do it together all the time.”

“This is different,” Dan mumbled.

“No it isn’t.” Sydney was firm.

“I’m not a part of _this_.” Dan’s voice grew louder with frustration. “I’m just- the boring sad loser you felt bad for. That’s the only reason any of you talk to me or want to hang out. That’s why you’re nice to me at work and look at me like a lost puppy-”

“Dan, you shut your goddamn mouth,” Sydney said assertively. She gripped Dan’s arms with desperation, but not with anger. Dan met her eyes, surprised.

“You aren’t a lost puppy. Jesus Christ, you’re our _friend._ It doesn’t matter if Belle or Marshall or me or anybody for that matters knows your fucking social security number by heart.”

“Dan, you’re so funny. You are _so_ fucking funny. You don’t realize it but you just have this- absolutely wonderful, welcoming energy. You always know how to make people feel comfortable and laugh. We love hanging out with you for that, that’s why we bug you so much to hang out. Not because we feel bad or whatever, because we fucking love you, dude…”

Dan didn’t break eye contact with her.

“You need to stop being so goddamn silly, Howell.” Sydney laughed and let go of him, a noticeable twinkle of tears building up that she quickly rubbed away.

“We always talk about how cool you are at work,” Belle chimed in.

“It’s true. Our favorite topic is how cool your tie is,” Marshall added. “Always the tie. Nothing else.” 

Dan laughed, but it just evolved into crying. He didn’t want to believe anything they said, but he somehow did, and that including everything that’s happened in the last 24 hours destroyed every last restraint that he built to keep his emotions concealed. 

He laughed loudly into his hands as he cried, an odd mixture of misery and ridiculousness dancing in his voice like the worst ballerina ever. 

“I’m sorry,” Dan laughed as he cried. “I don’t know why I’m laughing.”

“You’re weird, that’s why,” Sydney laughed with him. “That’s also why we love you.”

He only laugh-cried harder, and it ended up with the entire group following his lead, their laughs full of confusing love.

“I’m sorry, I can’t stop.” Dan’s laughter became stronger than his cries.

The friends were caught in a storm of belly laughs, not really knowing _why_ they were laughing. Knowing that only made them laugh louder though. 

It took a long couple of minutes to completely cool down, and a silent, comfortable energy flowed around the room as everyone wiped their tears away and chuckled their last laughs out.

“I hate you guys,” Belle was the first to speak.

“I hate you the most,” Sydney replied, shoving her playfully. “Can we try to talk to Phil again? They were cool.”

“Go ahead. I’ll join Belle in the audience,” Dan said, sniffing.

Sydney and Marshall returned to the board and attempted to contact Phil again, but there was no answer. They had tried numerous questions, and even attempted to bribe them with spectral money, but they were seemingly unreachable.

“Dan scared Phil away! I changed my mind, I hate Dan,” Sydney said, frustrated. 

“What were you even talking about?” Belle turned to Dan, who had blended into the background. “Earlier? Did something... Happen?”

Belle was always asking Dan too many questions, and although the curiosity came from kind intentions, Dan wanted to be defensive and angry. He met Belle’s eyes hesitantly, and considered. 

_Don’t say anything. It’s not even that big of a deal._

_Tell them. Tell them everything. You’ll feel so much better._

_They won’t understand. You’ll only scare them._

_They’ll understand everything.._

“I…” 

Amongst his private battle, he could hear Bailey’s words echo like a trumpet amongst his band of drums and cymbals. 

_“Tell them what you need from them and what’s the best way they can support you.”_

All the voices were mocking and testing, like they already knew Dan and how predictable he was. He grinded his teeth and stared at the ground.

“It’s nothing. Really,” Dan smiled, but he was defeated. 

Belle watched Dan, but quietly pried her eyes off him momentarily. 

The rest of their Ouija board session was begging for Phil to return, but they never did, and the group finally called it quits after multiple tries. 

“Well, that was eventful,” Sydney huffed out dissatisfied. “We’ll need to come back after Phil recovers from Dan’s intense bullying.”

“Or maybe we could contact Phil at your place and they’ll haunt you instead,” Dan argued. 

“Y’know, I’d be completely fine with that!” Sydney said happily. “I can respect a good ghost when I meet one.”

“I’m still butt-hurt Phil doesn’t like me,” Marshall laughed.

“I don’t blame them.” Sydney laughed loudly and Marshall rolled his eyes.

~

The group spent the rest of their time with Dan talking about life as he retreated into the shadows of his apartment. He would laugh at someone’s remark or casually slide in his thoughts, but he was slowly sinking into a secluded hole. 

After wishing everyone a good night and a safe trip back home, he closed the door while a concoction of relief and dread washed over his body. Their leave left a hole in his apartment, a shell once filled with life and conversation and something in Dan wanted that hole to be filled, but another part feasted off of the isolation like it was keeping him alive.

The emptiness was unforgivably welcoming and he listened to the abstract arguments in his head discuss wildly about criticisms and ideas no one but Dan would ever understand. 

After dragging his feet across the apartment, he sunk back into his sofa and listened to the air leave his lungs. To destroy the swallowing void of his apartment, he put on _The Office_ as background noise just so he could feel a little less alone. 

He knew he’d have to sleep soon but his brain was a beehive.

Dan considered playing the piano, but after the last incident, that idea only made him nauseous. He decided that reading might calm him down instead. 

He fished out a book from one of his boxes, one that he had always wanted to read but never had the motivation or time to. Brushing off the dust and thumbing through the pages as custom, he returned to his comfortable corner on his sofa. 

He laid the book down on the arm of the sofa and began his journey reading the prologue. They’re always slow, but still, Dan never skipped them. 

When he flipped the page, he was reminded of the bracelet that Belle had given him, and he stared at it for a long moment. His fingers had just started to work under it when he stopped. Something in him decided against taking it off, so he left it on. 

Dan didn’t believe the bracelet did anything, but even so, it promised more safety than anything else in his home.

It took awhile for him to start visualizing the universe the author created. It was blurry for a while and way too ambiguous to be anything comprehensive, but once the author laid out a comfortable blueprint of their intentions, his mind started departing.

He had enjoyed the luxury of escape until his attention was brought back to the real world. Warmth. Strange, alien warmth. Not the biting cold like he was becoming accustomed to, but sudden, unexpected warmth. It was something so unfamiliar to Dan that his body jerked in response to it. 

It was almost like he was standing in front of an open window except the gentle air that blew on him was kissed by the sun. 

The odd sensation stayed on Dan like a coat, and even more strange, he didn’t feel bothered by it. Yes, it was deeply confusing and would’ve made Dan’s head hurt if he let himself think about it too much, but it wasn’t dangerous. It didn’t provoke danger like every other occurrence in his apartment had.

For the first time during all the strange ordeals he’s experienced, he didn’t argue with it. He didn’t cry, he didn’t scream, but he left it. He accepted it.

Maybe that was the missing piece of it all, that he was fighting the unknown. That he was arguing with things that didn’t or did exist. That he was allowing himself to be consumed by every thought that threatened the very ideas that built Dan.

He could sit there and question life, death, the universe, and everything all because his body was being hugged by an unexplainable blanket of heat, but he didn’t. Dan just kept reading and allowed the voice of the narrator to be louder than the one that questioned too much. 

He felt his eyes grow heavier with every page he turned, and the warmth that sat on him began to blend in seamlessly like the noise of John Krasinski and Rainn Wilson’s voices arguing back and forth. Eventually, it was too hard to keep his eyes open, so they stayed shut.

~

He woke up slowly to the quiet sound of _The Office_ echoing throughout his home and a strange feeling on his face. He lifted himself up to see he had fallen asleep on page 27, and he wiped away the small puddle of drool he left on it with displeasure.

Dan had peered out his windows at the darkness, then flipped his phone over to check the time. 

12:42 AM.

He grumbled in his hands, upset he hadn’t just slept through the entire night on his book. Dan accepted defeat though, and folded the corner of his page as a bookmark. Setting it aside, he lifted himself off the sofa and groaned exhausted.

After shutting everything off, he stared for a moment as his apartment flooded with darkness, almost like he was expecting for something to happen, but of course, nothing did. He rubbed his face and turned for his bathroom. 

He stared at himself as he brushed his teeth, inspecting the bags drooping from his eyes. Dan stared for too long at himself to the point that he became unrecognizable, so he spat out the toothpaste with a tickle of fear in his bones as he washed out his mouth. He left the bathroom hastily while his spine shivered.

Dan found safety under his covers and huddled in the clouds of them. He took in a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and then inhaled again. When he calmed his racing heart, he took shelter in his mind and begin building his utopia once more

Having already been half-awake helped Dan because he found himself drifting off much quicker than he normally would. For the first time in what felt like months, he felt comfortable to fall asleep, and welcomed unconsciousness like a long-lost relative. 

That night, after falling in a glorious slumber, he had an oddly vivid dream of a robin perched underneath a ginormous oak tree.

~

Dan huffed dramatically after throwing something old and useless into his large garbage bag. He had finally finished all the boxes in his bedroom, and he was rewarded with the pleasant feeling of satisfaction. Dan was right when he said that he had more junk packed away than anything else, as about 65% of it all was destined for a landfill. 

He trudged down his apartment building’s staircase with the bag over his shoulder like Santa’s Christmas sack, huffing and panting like a dog while cursing himself for the millionth time over his hasty moving.

He chucked the garbage bag into the dumpster with a hefty groan, the sound of all the miscellaneous clutter clashing against the metal echoing around obnoxiously. He wiped away the sweat from his forehead, turned to the door leading back into the apartment building and opened it as soon as an older woman was stepping out.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Dan said quickly, slipping her a smile before stepping aside.

“You’re perfectly fine,” She smiled, but stopped when she met his gaze.

“307?” 

“Uh- pardon?” Dan blinked confused.

“Flat 307? You just moved in?”

“Oh! Yeah, about two months ago,” He said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Funny this is the first I’ve seen of you. Do you not greet your neighbors?” She chuckled, her long crow’s feet making an appearance as she smiled. “Young people love ignoring their elders.”

“Ah, I’m sorry I’ve just been so busy-”

“I’m only teasing,” the woman chuckled, and then held out her hand after she moved her purse to her other one. “Eve.”

“Uh- Dan. Daniel.” He accepted her firm handshake while he struggled to give her his name.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Daniel. You should come over for tea some time to substitute for my spoiled kids.”

Dan laughed politely, “Yeah, uh- maybe soon.”

“Gosh they don't even call anymore! The least they could've done was not move so darn far away!” Her voice was playful, but quite suddenly, her gaze and smile fell. “It sure was tragic what happened...”

Dan tilted his head, confused by her remark and taken aback by her sudden change of behavior. 

“What do you mean...?”

Eve didn’t seem to register much of what Dan was saying because her demeanor quickly reverted back to normal once her eyes returned to Dan's.

“Okay, Daniel. We’ll talk later. I’m going to be late for the bus.” She patted Dan’s arm and started walking away with remarkable haste and rhythm. 

“I’m at 309. Don’t be scared to visit every once in awhile!” Eve called back at him before disappearing entirely. 

He stood there for a moment, blinking and trying to register their exchange. She may have been older, but she was brisk, and it frankly left Dan’s head spinning. He had already agreed to never visit her based off of how drained he had felt by their two millisecond interaction. 

Once Dan had finally gathered himself, he re-entered the building.

He returned to his apartment while questioning whether or not he should donate his stuff today, tomorrow, or next year. When he made it to his room, he huffed and stared down at his box of donatable stuff. Begrudgingly, he made the decision to drop it off some time when he was going to work. For now, he’ll shove it in his closet. Dan picked it up, opened his closet, and slid it beneath his jumpers where Dan would probably forget it.

After pushing it as far as he could from his subconscious, he jumped after he heard something fall nearby.

Dan, alarmed, whipped to his right to meet where the sound came from and saw something on the ground. Confused, he peered up and saw a shelf practically hidden by the darkness of his closet. He furrowed his eyebrows at the fact that he had never noticed it before, but returned his curiosity to whatever had fallen.

It was a rectangular object, and upon picking it up, he saw it was a small, yellow notepad. He left the closet so he could get a better look at it, and was met with messy writing.

_Milk, sweets, marshmallows,_ _~~more sweets~~ , _ _popcorn (NOT THE BLUE ONE!!!!), chamomile_

Dan flipped through the pages and spotted some more messy lists and drawings. He immediately came to the conclusion that whoever lived in the apartment before him had accidentally left it there, and he would’ve just left it at that. But what conflicted him was _why_ it was there. How it fell was another question, but his mind could only focus on one thing at a time. The shelf was in a decently high place and was nearly impossible to see unless you were looking for it, so it was a little suspicious that it would be up there. 

He kept flipping through the pages though and, on the second to last one, he found a phone number starting with 01323 written in the same unique handwriting as the rest of the notes in the notepad.

Dan didn’t recognize the area code, so he pulled his phone out from his pocket and typed it in. His curiosity continued to gnaw at him when he saw it was the area code for a town called Eastbourne, and that the phone number didn’t seem to belong to any public businesses in the area.

He decided to take a photo of the number, then flipped back to the first page to put the notepad aside and deal with it later. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing too crazy for this short chapter but the plot is indeed thickening....... >:]


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Words: 6807

“It’s pathetic, really.”

“It’s quite the opposite, I think.” Bailey twirled a pen in between his fingers with skill. “Being able to cry in front of others is pretty impressive. It shows vulnerability.”

“It’s embarrassing.” 

Bailey smiled endearingly. “It’s progress. I think this is a positive thing.”

“I’m not making any progress.” Dan was feeling especially defiant today.

“You’re opening up in your own special way, Daniel. I feel like you should be proud of yourself!”

Dan couldn’t see what Bailey saw, and he barely attempted to try. All the years of being choked with the world’s toxic male standards told him that crying was something to be ashamed of, and to his disappointment, he found that more intelligible than his own therapist’s point of view.

He continued to fuel his restless brain with the assurance that Dan should embrace his every emotion, despite his nature having adapted over all the years he’s been alive to driving every thought six feet under with exhilarated fear. 

“But you’ve heard me say all this a million times, haven’t you,” Bailey chuckled, getting comfortable in his chair. “Oh- Before I forget, how has your sleep paralysis been? Has sleeping earlier helped?”

Dan, being abruptly shoved back to the dreaded reality of his least favorite discussion, flinched. He didn’t want to be reminded, and he most _certainly_ didn’t want to talk about it. Dan wished Dr. Bailey would just go back to taunting him with words he understood but apparently couldn’t adhere to.

“Uh, it’s been fine…” He said without consideration. It was becoming a despised habit to spew out the easiest answers despite his best interest. 

Bailey seemed to have caught on to Dan’s pattern quickly though because his left eyebrow hopped up dissatisfied.

“Dan, I’d like to remind you that I’m your therapist,” He begun. “It’s okay to tell me if my advice hasn’t been working, I’d honestly love to hear as such. It just means that I have even more room to help you!”

Dan’s eyes met Bailey’s for the first time in a while, but his gaze quickly fell back to the floor, nerves and embarrassment driving him to the black hole of the earth. 

“I’m so fucking tired of feeling like this…” His voice was low and testing. He shoved his fingers through his hair, pushing it back after being suddenly swarmed by claustrophobia. “I keep lying to save everyone else’s feelings but it never helps.”

Bailey watched Dan, thinking. He then hummed, nodding to accompany his understanding.

“I completely get it. You’d think doing that would make you feel better, right?” Bailey asked. “But it only suffocates you… You need to pull that cork out from your bottle. It’s the best thing you can do for your loved ones but most importantly yourself.”

Dan closed his eyes, listening to his words as if it were a dreaded symphony. 

“If only it were as easy as you make it sound.” 

“It is easy.”

Dan sighed, frustrated.

“It isn’t.”

There was a long, rigid pause between them. Dan fiddled with his hands, the silence and utter stillness of the room leading his brain to wonder how much his therapist despised their sessions. 

Then, Bailey took a steady breath in, and hesitance sat briefly between the two men. 

“I stole eight-hundred pounds from my best friend in college and blamed it on our roommate,” Bailey said suddenly.

Completely taken by surprise, Dan’s head shot up to return himself to the man with an exasperated expression. 

“My best friend got so mad that she threw all her stuff outside and kicked her out. She didn’t even try fighting. From what I heard the girl nearly dropped out because she had to live with her parents.”

Dan stared at him wide-eyed.

“I’ve never told anyone that and it’s been eating at me for years. We’re still close, and if it means I can prove something to you, I’ll gladly call her right now and tell her.”

All Dan could do was gawk, completely dumbfounded.

The first and immediate thought was that he was lying, and this was but a sneaky trick to make Dan feel more comfortable with his therapist. The second thought, however, was something a bit more flattering that Dan denied the second it entered his brain. 

However, past his suspicion, he recognized something in the sliver of auburn hugging Dr. Bailey’s pupils. He connected with the way his shoulders tensed. He recognized the fear. The raw, vulnerable, human fear sat right on his therapist’s face. The shame of admitting a mistake that still haunts one's consciousness painted on his face like a freckle.

Dan could only mouth words that couldn’t escape his throat, and Bailey smiled, almost pleased. He got up from his chair, and Dan could only crane his body to watch him move to his desk, his eyes stapled to the man’s every movement. 

Bailey plucked his phone from the surface and flopped back onto his desk chair.

He watched Bailey’s fingers move about the touch screen of his phone with careful ease. Dan’s gaze would flicker between his face and his hands, preparing himself for the moment that Dr. Bailey would hopefully say _‘just kidding!’_ and return to his seat to continue interrogating him. Of course, whenever he expects something to be a joke, it never is.

 _‘He can’t be serious,_ ’ Dan reasoned. 

With one last tap, Dr. Bailey put the phone up to his ear with floundering confidence. 

With the help of the buzzing silence, Dan could make out the sound of a ringing phone. They sat still, probably long enough for cobwebs to appear, up until Dan could spot a faint voice from Bailey’s speaker.

“Hi! I’m not intruding on anything, am I?” He asked politely, laughing comfortably with his friend.

A few seconds passed while Bailey listened to her words, a happy smile on his face. 

“Right, right. Yeah, I’m sorry for calling so suddenly. I just- I wanted to call to tell you something that’s been... It’s just something that’s been bothering me…” Bailey trailed off, listening to his friend.

“No, no no! God, It’s not that!” He laughed boisterously, and Dan would’ve been fooled by his attempt to appear collected had he not resonated with the way Bailey’s desperate eyes searched for something to cling on to. “No, uh… It’s actually- I know this is so out of the blue, but do you remember in college? When uh- when you had your money stolen?”

Dan watched with horror as the words started spilling from his mouth. Albeit, it was more like fumbling, but the attempt was there and it was hard to watch. 

He couldn’t believe this was happening, but something about the entire thing was impossible to look away from. Bailey gnawed on his bottom lip while he listened, and Dan watched with rude intensity as the man slithered his hand up his neck. 

“Yeah, no um…” Bailey tried chuckling at something she said.

Bailey paused for a long time, but not because his friend was talking. He inhaled, long and appreciative.

“I um… Elle didn’t steal your money,” Bailey said, his voice much quieter now. Dan could tell the reality had just hit him, but he couldn’t tell whether it was fear or regret that started swallowing him. “I-I uh, I... actually did. I stole it and then lied to you about her doing it.”

Bailey attempted to straighten his posture and smile at Dan, but it was horribly painful. 

There was a _long_ pause where Bailey said nothing. There wasn’t a sway of movement. Not a flicker of life. There wasn’t even a speck of that tinny sound of someone’s voice over a phone. The room was motionless and the buzz of impatience nearly drove Dan crazy. 

Bailey carefully swallowed, then opened his mouth to begin his long-awaited apology.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry. I wish I would’ve told you sooner--” Bailey was cut off. 

Dan couldn’t tell what had happened, but from what he could gather from the man’s reaction, eyes wide with something painful, he guessed it wasn’t the preferable outcome. Bailey pried the phone from his ear and stared at it. 

“See? That wasn’t hard at all,” Bailey’s voice was sore yet impossibly optimistic. “It sure as hell isn’t fun, but it’s easy.”

Dan assessed the man’s face as he returned to the seat in front of him. 

“You can’t let yourself get eaten up by all the things you want to say. You only have one life, afterall.”

“Do you do that with all your patients?” Dan finally managed to spit something out.

He received a light chuckle.

“No. I guess you have bragging rights now.” Bailey let out a long sigh.

“I can only imagine how upset she is. I should probably buy her a card and pay her back, no?” His smile grew. “Better late than never.”

Dan could only stare at him, still trapped in bewilderment by the events that had just transpired. He looked like he was glowing even with the quiet darkness surrounding his aura. 

“What did it feel like?” Dan asked in a quiet, curious voice.

“What? Being honest?” Bailey tilted his head. “It’s the best goddamn feeling in the world, Dan. It’s like filling your lungs with the freshest, cleanest air after spending your entire life holding your breath.”

Dan listened longingly.

“All it takes is one phone call, Dan. All it takes is a couple of words.”

Dan stared off again, trying to comprehend what he was saying. 

“I promise you there’s air, and I promise there will always be air. And I may never truly know who you are, Dan, but I don’t need to know a goddamn thing to see that you’re _strong_ , and that you deserve to breathe just as much as anyone else on this planet.”

He knew he was right, and he knew the darkest parts of the toxicity that feasted on his hope knew he was right. Dan dusted off his forgotten ability to gather courage, and begin organizing the millions of piles of long awaited words in his mind. 

Bailey waited with patience as Dan color-coded and labeled every mixture and brew of the things he always wanted to say. Before Dan could ever speak, though, he always hesitated. The words would stand behind his lips with just enough time for them all to be run over by the train of overthinking, his organized office of desires and dreams destroyed over and over, his hope chipped away with yet another disaster.

This time though, Dan didn’t let himself hesitate. He didn’t give the destruction of his mind any time to gain power. He didn’t analyze his therapist’s face or formulate their future conversation. He just spoke. 

“I lied to you.”

Bailey, having been leaned forward, fell back upon hearing Dan’s words, a large, content smile stretching across his face. 

“What did you lie about?” Bailey sounded victorious, but Dan’s war had only just begun. 

Dan could feel himself begin to choke on everything he wanted to say, but he tried with everything in him to hold onto the power he had somehow managed to gather. He was determined to prove to every annoyingly poised voice that thought they knew him that they were wrong. He was going to prove to himself and the demon that haunted him that none of them knew his potential. He was going to prove that he was larger than the ideas everyone had built of him, the ideas that they taunted him with. 

“I’ve never experienced sleep paralysis,” Dan spat out. 

He could feel the fire in his arms as he swam beneath the quadrillion tons of water pulling him down. He could hear the sound of angry orchestras with the power of a million suns rushing through his veins as if it were simultaneously powering and destroying him.

Dr. Bailey, having a pure look of triumph, looked a little shocked to hear these words, having only the tiniest inkling of what Dan was going through to support his surprise. His therapist seemed to struggle with deciding whether he should ask another question or trust that he was going to continue. 

Dan, with astounding confidence, found it in himself to elaborate. 

“I’m being haunted.” He eased out yet another sentence lodged in his throat, and he continued to swim. 

With even more surprise, Bailey’s posture begin to change, and that miniscule, questioning change of someone he looked up to was nearly enough for Dan to give in to the convenience of backing out from what he was committing to, but with one powerful, robust shove from origin unbeknownst to Dan, he countered the desire. 

“There’s a demon in my bed.” 

Dan could feel a want in his soul to scream that very sentence, but with his eyes locked to Bailey’s - wide and pining - he found it in himself amongst the crying frustration to restrain the impulse. 

Bailey didn’t respond at first. He only watched him.

Dan could feel himself slipping.

“A demon?” Bailey asked, curious as to if he heard him right.

Dan was faltering.

“Uh-”

The words were bouncing around his head and they started to sound even more ridiculous.

“You’re being haunted?” Bailey waited for an answer.

Dan’s internal body burned with exhaustion, and although so close to the surface, he started musing about floating back to the bottom, the fantasy of ceding to the power of his opposing side undeniably tempting. 

“No… No I…”

Dan’s fighting arms begin to slow. The gravity of his homey ocean regaining power.

“I didn’t mean it like that…”

Dan began to lose sight of the sunlight. 

“I’m sorry. That was- That came out wrong.”

Dan had given up. 

“I don’t think it did,” Bailey dared.

He looked like he had several thousand questions but the smallest epiphany started to appear within his therapist’s confusion. 

“I just saw something in you I’ve never seen before.”

Dan watched, trying to decide if this was a good or bad thing. He assessed the man’s face with an ever growing fear. 

“Tell me about the demon.” 

Bailey was so oblivious to the very rubble Dan was standing in. He couldn’t fight. He wasn’t strong enough. 

“It really was nothing.”

“Dan, it’s okay.” Bailey seemed frustrated, but not with Dan. “I’m your therapist. You can talk to me.”

It felt like he’s had to reiterate that a million times now, but it still doesn’t seem to make sense to him. 

Dan stared at the floor helplessly. He had lost, and the guilt of knowing that he’ll have to lie once again to his therapist made meeting his eyes impossible. 

“I’m sure it’s sleep paralysis,” Dan said, trying to recuperate himself to sell his lie. “I just got excited there.”

“I hope you’re not worried I’m going to think you’re crazy or something.” Dr. Bailey’s frustration grew. 

Dan considered it, but he knew the hole he had already dug himself in. He was familiar with it and it was more comfortable staying there than risking anything else.

“No, it’s not that. I’m just- I don’t know. I just need to figure things out for myself.”

Bailey analyzed Dan for a brief moment. He assessed his face and his sunken body, and he nodded, gifting Dan a slow smile. 

“Okay, I think that’s a good idea,” Bailey said, his words similar to someone tiptoeing across ice. “But I really hope you know that you aren’t alone, and that your battles don’t have to be fought alone. I am here to help you. Your friends are here to support you. Your family is here to love you.”

“Wherever your mind leads you, I just hope you remember that there are people around you that deeply care about you and always will.”

Dan bathed in his words, and he accepted them with all the love and appreciation he was too scared to express.

~

The walk home felt longer than usual, and the train ride felt even longer. The blanket of white clouds hiding the sky made his world all the more downcast. It didn’t help that the emotional fatigue coursing through his blood was pulling his body to the core of the Earth, and with each step he took, he felt the gravity pull harder. 

It was guilt and embarrassment that Dan recognized. The rest was but a conglomerate of familiar emotions that he couldn’t describe in English, let alone with the human tongue. Explaining the guilt was easy: Dan, once again, lied to his therapist. Explaining the embarrassment was a bit more difficult. 

He felt embarrassed for too many things. For telling his therapist something that Dan still found ridiculous, and to have said it with enough confidence to make Dr. Bailey think he was succeeding at his job just added a layer to the cake of humiliation.

When Dan finally got home, he almost let himself relax, but a violent buzzing came from his coat pocket like it knew, and he groaned while reaching to fish it out. 

His quiet idealist let himself hope for a call from Dr. Bailey asking Dan for a date, but upon reading ‘mum’ on the center of his screen, his shoulders fell. 

He knew his only option was to answer it.

“Hi,” Dan said, still working at getting his shoes off.

“Hi hun, you haven’t been checking in with us like I asked you to,” She said. Her voice was playful, but it was clear that it was coming from a personal place. 

“I’m sorry, there’s just… Not a lot to check in with I guess.” Dan worked off his coat while holding his phone between his cheek and shoulder. 

“Well a hello every once and awhile doesn’t hurt.”

“Hello,” Dan returned sarcastically. “Are you appeased yet?” 

Dan couldn’t help holding back a smile as his mom scoffed at him.

“Just tell me about your day. Tell me what you’ve been up to. How is work? How is therapy? Have you met a girl yet?” 

Dan rolled his eyes. 

“Everything’s fine mom,” Dan said, hanging up his coat. “I promise there is very little to catch up on.”

“I hope you’re getting out. Have you made friends at your job?”

“Yeah, actually. I have--”

Dan stopped dead in the entrance of his kitchen. 

Every single cupboard and drawer in his kitchen was wide-open. 

His cups and bowls, his kitchen utensils, a copy of his family’s cookbook, his collection of hand towels, the cheap cleaning supplies beneath his sink -- All that was hidden now exposed to the unforgivably chilly air of his apartment.

“Are you still there?” The tinny sound of his mom’s voice pulled Dan back down to earth, and he jumped. 

“Yeah- Yeah I’m still here.”

“Are you okay, Dan?”

‘Yes, I’m fine.” Only half of Dan was able to respond to his mom, and his eyes flickered around his kitchen. 

He mustered the power to move from his spot to start shutting everything, trying his best to keep his ear open despite the several hundred other voices he was trying to process.

“Are you planning to visit any time soon? You could come up for Christmas if you’re free.” 

All Dan wanted was to come home to a quiet, relaxing apartment, but what he got instead were open cupboards and even more intrusive questions. Both of which were mildly infuriating.

“Yes mom, I’ll visit soon.” He didn’t intend to sound as annoyed as he did. “Please, just stop worrying. By the time I see you your hair is gonna be all grey from stress.”

“No, it’ll be _all grey_ from how long it takes you to visit your family! 30 years is my guess.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Dan said, closing the last drawer. “At least 28.”

“Oh, shut up,” She laughed. 

“We can try Christmas. I’m not too sure how work will end up treating me around the holidays though.”

“I’m only teasing, hun. Come down whenever you can,” She assured. 

“I know.” 

Dan knew she missed him, and he hated that his ability to hold his patience for her had grown so thin.

“I love you. Just take care of yourself. You have to be your number one priority.”

“I know. I love you too, mum.” 

They wished each other dry goodbyes, and when he was finally able to tap the hang up button, he felt the poles keeping him up emotionally and mentally snap beneath the weight of Dan’s exhaustion. 

Using his hands to keep his leverage, Dan could almost feel the wobbling effort that it took to simply keep himself leaning over the kitchen counter. His appointment with his therapist was bad enough, and then to come home to this just twisted his brain into an even larger knot.

He was certain that letting the existence of whatever was happening just happen would make him feel better. Or maybe, no matter how ridiculous it sounded, it would make the _thing_ feel better. But judging from all the _Paranormal Activity_ movies he’s watched, this was most certainly not positive progress.

Dan thought he was finally getting somewhere. He thought he was getting somewhere with his therapist, thought he was getting somewhere with the activity in his home, but every bit of hope he allowed himself to express only seems to be returned with the opposite of his wishes.

Dan quickly conjured a plan to make himself feel better, and it consisted of a long bath and getting out of this apartment.

He could already feel the air getting colder, but he strode through it with passive annoyance. 

Upon entering his bedroom, he finally had something to make sense for the chilliness of his home, but it was somehow worse than it being unexplainable. His two windows were wide open, the air soaring under the curtains making them twirl and dance elegantly. 

He stomped to the windows and closed them firmly, an unpleasant sound recoiling onto his bedroom walls and into his eardrums. 

Dan turned to head for his closet, deciding from experience that getting clothes prior to his bath would be smarter than freezing half to death. However, yet another thing stole his attention, and at that point, Dan wanted to scream out of pure anger and exasperation.

The lid of his piano was up again, and this time, Dan was confident that he wasn’t the perpetrator. 

Maybe he sleepwalked. Maybe he lifted it subconsciously. Maybe there was a possibility that was logical and scientific, but between his every kitchen cupboard and drawer being open to his bedroom windows blowing fall air in like a harsh fan, and to top it all off, knowing how much of a stickler Dan was about each of those things staying closed, the only thing _logical_ were things he didn’t want to think about.

His headache worsened, his insides boiled, his skin crawled with fear. He sat down on his bed, fearing that he’d pass out from mere stress. 

Dan could try and estimate every statistical probability in his head of what’s happened like it would help. He could try and look up answers to see if there was some explainable phenomenon for what’s going on like it would solve anything. But instead, he pulled out his phone without an inch of a plan and thought of the only escape he could. 

  
  


**Dan** : are any of you free to hang out or something

~

“Daniel James Howell! The last person on this planet Earth to ever arrange a hang out with human beings,” Sydney’s voice erupted throughout the restaurant with zero pity to anyone around. 

Dan jumped upon hearing her voice, having been sitting alone in a booth for a while. He briefly considered being polite and standing up to greet them, but the group was already sliding into the seats as if they owned the very restaurant. 

The scent of clean, brisk air drifted off their coats along with the comforting aroma of talented chefs. For the first time today, he felt his shoulders relax and the air that entered his lungs felt sufficient enough. 

Perhaps this was safety.

“I just needed to get out. It’s been a long day.”

“It’s just started!” Marshall laughed, shrugging his coat off.

“I had therapy today and it was just… It was interesting.”

“Oh? Were you confronted by some serious repressed baggage?”

Dan laughed at Belle’s remark, but waved her off. 

“It was nothing. I just needed to escape”

There was a collective, loud ‘awww’ that everyone at the table let out, and Dan hid his face with his menu embarrassed. 

“We’re your escape? That’s so cuuuute,” Marshall chimed in, elbowing Dan playfully.

“Yeah like I have any other friends…” He grumbled, hiding the color floating around his cheeks.

The group continued making fun of Dan with adoration until a waitress appeared to get everyone’s drink orders, quieting their childish pokes to present themselves as polite and respectful adults.

Belle quickly returned her attention to Dan after the waitress got everything. 

“So, your therapy sesh’,” She started, watching the waitress leave. “You’re alright, yeah?”

“No- Yeah I’m fine. I swear, it was nothing. Just therapy stuff.”

Belle watched Dan silently again. 

He’d noticed that was something she’d been doing a lot recently. Even at work, she’d stare, and it was beginning to bug Dan but he of course wouldn’t say anything. 

The friends only had a brief moment to scour through their menus before the waitress reappeared in record speed with their drinks. They decided on the spot what they were going to eat, luckily no one feeling the need to sniff every inch of the menu for twenty minutes. 

The group was already on top of a conversation, it apparently being related to something that had happened on their way to the restaurant. Dan didn’t bother trying to comprehend it, not that his mind was really in the right place to do as such. Dan just sat in the buzz of human life while sipping at his drink. 

It was between Sydney and Marshall’s conversation about the restaurant’s salads that Belle attempted communication with Dan again. 

“So how has your flat been since the Ouija board session?”

“Oh my God, yeah! How has Phil been?” Sydney had tossed her and Marshall’s salad discourse aside to join in on Belle and Dan’s conversation. 

“It’s fine- Nothing’s happened,” Dan said quickly. 

“Really? No more weird knocks and bumps?” Belle asked. 

“Nope,” Dan lied. 

He could practically see the disappointment fall over them, and usually he wouldn’t have minded, but amongst the familiarity of feelings that begged for Dan to fall back in the shadows, he felt something oddly new. Something that asked Dan quietly to, just this once, say something. 

“Actually, something weird did happen the other day.” Dan raised his head.

The entire group simultaneously turned to meet Dan, a new excitement capturing the table and enclosing them in a bubble full of impenetrable wonder.

“What happened?” Marshall was the first to voice his curiosity. 

Dan situated himself, smiling subconsciously at the group’s odd obsession with Dan’s apartment.

“Well, I was going through my boxes and organizing stuff because, of course, I still haven’t finished unpacking,” Dan said, allowing the suspense to build. “And I had this box of stuff I wanted to donate, so I just took it and shoved it in my closet to deal with later.”

“Yeah, sounds like you,” Sydney laughed.

“Right- When I say later, I definitely don’t mean later - But anyway. I shoved it in my closet and something fell to my right.” 

All eyes were on him, and although the thought of being watched this closely was petrifying, a part of him secretly loved knowing that he was entertaining enough to capture an entire table’s attention. It was addicting in a way.

“So I went to go pick up whatever fell, and saw it was this yellow notepad that fell from a shelf that I had never even seen before.”

“In your closet?” Belle asked for confirmation. 

“Yes! God, it was so strange. It was on this weirdly high shelf, like right above the door, and there’s no light in my closet so I never would’ve noticed it.”

“That’s so fucking sketchy,” Sydney said.

“That’s such a weird place to put a notepad… And then for it to fall while you’re right next to it?” Marshall reacted to Dan’s story like it was the craziest thing he’s ever heard. 

“Hold on, that’s not all,” Dan said, raising his hands to stop everyone. “I flipped through the pages out of curiosity, y’know, just being nosy, and on the second to the last page, there was a phone number.”

The friend’s peered at each other to witness one another’s reaction, all seemingly with the same question.

“Did you call it?” Belle was the first to ask.

“No, of course not,” Dan said, practically sounding offended that they’d assume that from him. 

“Why the hell not?!” Sydney exclaimed. 

“What would I say then? ‘Oh hi, this is Dan. I found your number in my closet!’”

“Yes, exactly!” Sydney applauded. “I would be thrilled if some random person found my number in their closet.”

“Yeah and I’d hang up and file a restraining order,” Dan shot back. “But no, I looked up the number and the area code was for Eastbourne, and it wasn’t even, like, a public number.”

“Please tell me you saved it.” Belle’s eyes were sparkling. 

“I _did_ take a picture of it, but I’m not calling it if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Fine, then I’ll call it,” Syndey said.

“No! Knowing you, you’ll probably say something weird and go to jail.”

“At least I’ll be able to say I called it,” Sydney pressured.

“I’m not going to interrogate some random person,” Dan said. 

“You can’t _not_ be curious,” Marshall said. “Come on. A notepad with a number on the back page? Hidden on some weird closet shelf? That’s really suspicious.”

Dan agreed that the curiosity was tempting, and the strangeness of it all was very intriguing, but he didn’t want to disturb a stranger over a weird occurrence. That much he was sure of.

“The person who lived there before me probably put it there by mistake.”

“Answer me this, Daniel: Why would you take a picture of the phone number if you weren’t planning to figure out who it was?” Sydney leaned over the table. “Don’t try and tell us you aren’t dying to know who’s number was hidden on your weird ass closet shelf.” 

Dan inhaled, readying a good answer, but nothing came out. Probably because he didn’t have one. 

“I- I don’t know. I just thought I would like, run into it or something. Then it would make sense.”

“You can make it make sense. All it takes is one phone call.”

Dan recognized those words.

“This is peer pressure.”

“It’s your fault for bringing it up!” Sydney argued. 

Dan looked around the restaurant, as if expecting someone amongst the small groups in the building to tell him the best course of action. He sighed though, and returned his attention to his friends with a conclusion. 

“Like I said, I’ll gladly call for you. I’m just curious! I won’t say anything weird,” Sydney offered. 

“No, I’ll do it.” Dan had caved in, realizing bitterly he was just as nosy as the rest of the group. 

The group clapped and squealed like children upon hearing his announcement, even going as far as to high-five one another with victory. 

Dan had only just taken his phone out and he was already regretting agreeing to this. All Dan wanted was to go home to a quiet, loving house. Now he was preparing himself to inconvenience some random person. 

He pulled up the picture on his phone and stared at it as he tried to map out the conversation he was supposed to have.

Memorizing the number amongst the silent anticipation growing around the table, Dan was praying to anything that may have been listening that the other person denied the call or, better yet, missed it all together. 

Once he finished tapping the numbers in, Dan hesitated. He peered up at everyone who’s wide and waiting stares jabbed at him impatiently. 

He couldn’t help but groan unhappily after pressing the call button. Dan wasn’t in the mood to experience another painful phone call, let alone be the one _making_ it painful.

The entire group stared holes into Dan, awaiting the very moment Dan would break from his fearing mold to present a kind and welcoming demeanor to the poor soul. 

The phone rang and rang and rang. It felt like several million eternities just sitting there and eyeing everyone, and the ringing dragged on long enough just when Dan started to think he was safe, up until, of course, he wasn’t.

“Hello?” A low voice came through the speakers of his phone. It was apprehensive, as any normal person would be after getting a call from an unknown number. 

“Uh- Hi!” Dan blurted out, straightening his posture. “I just--”

“Who is this?” The voice interrupted Dan immediately. They became annoyed before Dan could even speak, and he could already feel the burning guilt return to his stomach.

“I- I’m sorry I uh- My name is Dan. I live in- I think I lived in your old apartment because I found your--”

“You must be mistaken. Do I know you?” They once again interrupted Dan, the voice growing even more agitated. Another part of Dan died.

“No, you don’t know me. I found your number in uh- I know this is so weird to say, but I found your number in my closet…? And I was just- I was curious to see who it was.”

“Yeah, it was pretty weird actually,” Dan attempted to laugh, but the regret poured out of his mouth like a waterfall. “It was on this weird shelf in the back of this notepad. And I thought it would be funny to uh- to call it and tell whoever picked it up that like- ‘hey! I found your number!’ y’know?” 

Dan’s voice screamed insecurity and sheepishness and he was pretty surprised to see that the group didn’t coil in second-hand embarrassment. They just watched him like he was the most enthralling action film ever made. 

For the first time during the horrid phone call, the other person had taken a second before responding to Dan. A _very_ long second for that matter. So long that Dan had to take a double take to see if they had hung up. They hadn’t, though.

“Your closet?” They finally asked. The words were still seasoned with the same bitter annoyance, but there was a subtle change in the way their words were spoken. Dan had thought he had finally achieved his goal of humoring them.

“Yeah! Pretty weird right? I didn’t know if like- Maybe you were the person in the flat before? So I just--”

“Please don’t call me again,” They said bluntly, and hung up.

Dan clamped his mouth shut, and froze up. Surprised by their reaction and not knowing what else to do, Dan pulled the phone from his ear. 

“Did they hang up?” Belle asked. 

“Yeah,” Dan confirmed, sliding his phone onto the table. 

“Whoops,” Sydney mumbled, drawing circles on the condensation of her drink.

“Did you at least find out who it was?” 

“No. They sounded pretty pissed.”

“Maybe you should call another day,” Belle said.

“I think I’m good.” Dan rubbed his face, hoping that they would just move on from this altogether. “I think I’m done annoying people.”

Dan secretly wished he had just let Sydney call them instead. 

“It’s not your fault someone didn’t know how to have fun,” Marshall said. 

“I mean, it’s not the politest thing to just dial every number you find,” Dan reasoned.

“Neither is hanging up on someone!” Sydney exclaimed, throwing her arms up. 

Dan rested his head on his hand, shaking it in disagreement to Sydney’s argument. 

“Send me their number. I’ll have a talk with them about being a kind stranger,” Sydney stretched her arm across the table, beckoning for the phone number. 

“I’d rather swim in lava.”

Marshall changed the subject quickly when he spotted a dog from the windows of the restaurant, and Dan was willing to be distracted by said mammal. 

Besides the embarrassing phone call, Dan was rather quickly sucked into the enjoyment of dining and rambling with interesting friends. Their conversations evolved from rude people to the interesting reality of how diverse everyone’s personalities were, and Dan floated with the friends comfortably as the table became their own universe for discussion, exploring the many branches of arguments and opinions. 

Dan hadn’t been able to enjoy this type of thing for a long time, and the comfort of having close enough friends to share philosophical ideas with was therapeutic. 

“I don’t know, I just don’t understand why so many people would have experiences with ghosts and all that if something after life _didn’t_ exist,” Marshall said.

“Mass hysteria is a thing,” Dan argued. “You look at all these people who wrote about the afterlife and Gods and fucking unicorns thousands of years ago, and these theories and rumors carry and evolve over time. That’s what ghosts are. They’re just evolved stories people made up to entertain each other.” 

“But why would these stories exist if there wasn’t something to inspire it?” Sydney asked passionately after swallowing her food.

“Humans are creative." Dan shrugged matter-of-factly.

“There’s just no way. It doesn’t make sense how people - no matter anyone’s language or culture or anything - have had such similar experiences.” Sydney was just as adamant as Dan about her opinions. 

“I understand both opinions, really. But I prefer the one that doesn’t make me feel like a speck of dust,” Belle said.

“But that’s truly what we are. We were an accident made from unintentional combinations. We’re temporary and small, and we’re just drifting through an infinite, cold universe that means nothing amongst an endless amount of other meaningless nothing.” 

“But... _Why?_ Why do you prefer telling yourself that? Does that really give you comfort?” Sydney asked. 

“No, of course it doesn’t give me comfort,” Dan said. “It’s fucking terrifying, but it’s simple. It’s simple, and it’s digestible, and it’s easier than trying to grasp the ideas of religion,”

“Besides, I’d get lazy if I promised myself that I’d just end up someplace wonderful no matter how I live my life. To believe I’m fleeting and ultimately meaningless means I only have one chance to make the most of what I have, and that motivates me to live.” 

“Yeah, that’s a nice way to put it,” Sydney said. “But personally, that doesn’t motivate me, it just depresses me.”

“I think my theory of souls is much more interesting,” Belle said. “I’d like to think that I have an immortal part of me that’ll just get to float around forever and experience the infinite.” 

“Now _that’s_ fucking terrifying,” Marshall said after wiping his mouth with a napkin. “I’d rather go where Dan’s going than be aware of eternity.” 

“Good, have fun in Abyss Land,” Belle mocked. “All I need is my soulmate and I’ll be perfectly fine.”

“Soulmates,” Dan scoffed lightheartedly. “An equally ridiculous concept I’ll never understand.” 

“Sure you will, Dan,” Belle assured.

~

Dan had spent a bewildering amount of time at the restaurant - a staggering 4 hours - and they all went separate ways after their brunch and having gone off the rails about several hundred different conversations. The exhaustion had been extraordinary by the time Dan returned to his apartment and it was only the afternoon. 

Upon opening his door, there was a rush of cold air that blew at him, and Dan closed his eyes to prepare himself for anything and everything. 

He kicked his shoes off and genuinely contemplated leaving his coat on, already feeling his body threatening to shiver. 

He was almost certain that he’d fall asleep before anything could try and disturb him, and sleeping while the sun was still up eased his anxieties of bed demons despite the air promising different.

He practically dragged his feet to his bedroom, and when he was close enough to it, he fell onto his bed with a large groan of relief. Dan rolled himself up in his blankets, wondering if he could sleep through the entire day, and he tried to persuade himself that it was possible. The voices were fuzzy and incoherent behind the banging drums though, begging for Dan to close his eyes.

He couldn’t though, because they were too consumed by staring at the open lid of his piano. 

He blinked slowly, his mind’s projector unapologetically replaying the conversation he had about ghosts and the afterlife earlier. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Words: 4165

It was knocking that intruded Dan’s wondrous explorations. It was like fireworks invading his home and only leaving behind ash and destruction. He shot up, blood pounding through his body as the sheer panic drove his heart to beat so fast he could've sworn it would explode. 

He had hoped that after opening his eyes and sitting up in his bed, he’d realize the knocking was just a dream, but it was real, and it was _loud_. 

Dosed by confusion, fear and sleep, he whipped his legs over his bed and stumbled out of the bedroom. He caught himself on the wall of the hallway, his vision gone blurry briefly from how fast he got up. Dan didn’t stop moving though, desperate to end whatever the hell was making all the noise.

All he could think about was the front door. Surely someone was at the door. Surely it was just his exasperated sleepiness that made the knocking sound like thunder.

The only thing Dan wanted was contentment when he moved. Peace. He wanted this place to be a fresh new start, a place where he could rebuild and understand himself. It’s never that easy though, is it?

Dan yanked open his front door as if he was swimming up for air, and upon opening it, the knocking stopped. No one was there though, because _of course_ no one was there.

He stared into the hall of his apartment building, long and winding. He watched it thoughtlessly, mind racing with nothing. Dan couldn’t grasp what had just happened, let alone begin to make sense of it. Whatever it was, it left his entire body shaking and his blood running marathons. 

He eased the door shut after he managed to remind himself of the breathing exercises his therapist taught him. Once he got rid of his tunnel vision and calmed down his shaking some, he decided with fair confidence that whatever had just happened was but his reality and sleep-state violently traversing. 

Dan still felt the need to make sense of things, his helpless and pitiful attempts at finding some sense of comfort in this remarkably confusing world. Even though seemingly 90% of what was happening to him had zero explanation, he tried his best to focus on the 10% to find inner peace.

However, that 10% seemed to fall down to 9% quite inelegantly when he returned to his room. He had been back-handed once again with unapologetically wide open windows and chilly gusts of air. 

Dan stood gaping in place, but at this point, he felt ridiculous for expecting any different, yet these things still had such a paralyzing effect on him.

He came to the faulty confident conclusion that he had somehow left it open by mistake before he sat back down on his bed, his heart beat returning to an unpleasant fast pace.

With that still eating at the back of his head, he reached to pick up his phone, a habit he'd developed when needing to find an escape. The clock had just turned to 1:53 AM when he turned his phone on and he pouted. 

Below the digital clock was a message from Belle. The message was several sentences long, and Dan gulped. He unlocked his phone and went directly to her message. 

**Belle** : Hey Dan, sorry for the random text. I just wanted to ask if you’re like? Okay? I don’t know how to word this without sounding invasive and weird but you just seem like you’re dealing with a lot and I just want you to know that I’m always here for you, and so is Marshall and Syd ofc. You always have us. You're not alone. We love you to bits and we will do whatever we can to make you feel better!!

Dan could feel something in him split. It was hard to identify what exactly it was, but the nails, locks, tape, chains, and string keeping it under restraints were breaking, and Dan could feel it growing in anger.

Dan knew her intent was coming from a loving place, but it was too much. Everything was becoming way too much.

He felt like the walls were closing in on him. Everyone just wanted answers to questions Dan couldn’t even grasp. He couldn’t reach them. He couldn’t satisfy them. They all wanted something Dan couldn’t do. He couldn’t do it. 

He wanted to cry, but his tired, dry eyes only stared down at the letters his friend typed. Letters that had hoped to gather answers. His soul fought his body and his emotions crashed and battled. There were too many things happening.

All he wanted was to sleep. He wanted to sleep with nothing but peace and contentment.

He did what he thought would help and ignored the fact that his windows were opened. He ignored the fact that his friends were all worried about him. He ignored the fact that he was shaking from the cold, from the agony, the distress. Instead, Dan only allowed one concern to control him and that was sleep.

He crawled under his sheets and breathed.

_1, 2, 3, 4… 1, 2, 3, 4…_

Dan counted to himself between every inhale and exhale. The whistling of the air was annoying, but he ignored it. He clamped his eyes shut, and continued counting.

_1, 2, 3, 4… 1, 2, 3, 4…_

He could still remember how loud the knocking sounded. It still echoed throughout his head like a band. He drowned it though by counting. He drowned it by breathing. He drowned it by ignoring it.

_1, 2, 3, 4… 1, 2, 3, 4…_

Dan allowed imagery of memories he held close to his heart to play over and over like a broken record player. He allowed imagery of his therapist’s pretty smile and welcomed the childish crush with embarrassment. He allowed imagery of his friends gathered around a restaurant table discussing how many alien civilizations were near Earth. He allowed imagery of the sunset he had seen a couple days ago cast over the city, far too breathtaking for Dan to take pictures. 

He had painted something beautiful in his mind, and he held it tightly. He protected as if it were a dying flame, hoping it wouldn’t slip away amongst any intrusive and negative feelings.

What turned out to be intrusive wasn’t mental though. Nor was it emotional. It was physical.

A weight. A cold, heavy weight. 

Dan’s eyes flashed open. He nearly screamed after foolishly letting himself get too comfortable in his sea of rare idealism. 

It had never felt this intense before. It almost felt like he was being sucked into a black hole, the weight pulling his bed down with such intensity that Dan had to hold his body from accidentally rolling over. 

Dan tried breathing. He tried ignoring it. He tried holding onto something.

He could feel something in him split. It was cracking. Tearing. Dan didn’t know how much longer he could stand the pain of restraining whatever it was that was trying to claw its way out of him. The terror, the agony, the exhaustion -- It was blazing. He didn’t know it was humanly possible to feel this terrible and still be alive, let alone conscious.

He tightened his grip on his pillow, trying to keep control of one of the last things he had. 

Dan clasped his eyes shut after he felt shuffling. He felt the pull of its body as it moved around. Dan could hear the air entering its body. He could sense its gaze. It was too human. It was too real. 

Dan kept his eyes closed, pleading with a loud, raspy inner voice that he be left alone.

He could feel his face growing steadily colder, and the thoughts and theories as to why spread across his brain with unstoppable speed. 

_1, 2, 3, 4…. 1, 2, 3, 4…._

Just breathe. 

_1, 2, 3, 4… 1, 2, 3, 4…_

His face kept getting colder.

_1, 2, 3, 4… 1, 2, 3, 4…_

The thing pain inside him was barely being held together.

_1… 2… 3… 4…_

Whatever was in his bed, it was too still, but he kept getting colder.

_1… 2… 3…_

Please just keep breathing.

_1… 2…--_

A touch. A graze. Featherlike, ice cold finger tips. It only briefly touched Dan’s cheek, but the second he recognized the contact, Dan flung his arm as hard as humanly possible, screaming as every restraint inside of him broke beneath the weight of its flood.

Dan, having been so overwhelmed with the need to fight and scream and move, realized something far too late. For the first time since this nightmare began, Dan was facing the perpetrator. 

He barely had a moment to assess whoever or _whatever_ it was, because he had fallen from his bed completely unintentionally, having been electrocuted by his instincts to propel away. 

Dan crashed into his bedside table, the cheap light and all the other miscellaneous items falling with him. He backed up against his bedroom wall, trying to focus his blurry vision on to see if this was real. It was a constant cycle of never knowing whether or not Dan’s mind was an enemy.

To his horror, there was a silhouette, and it was moving.

Dan couldn’t budge. He couldn’t run. Not like he did last time. Not like he always told himself he would if he ever ended up in this situation. His body rejected any and all thoughts of escape.

Dan could only stare and wait to see his life be taken from him. His every regret played in his head like it was mocking him. Mocking him for everything he wanted to do, everything he was building himself up to accomplish, but didn’t. They derided him because he was about to have the only opportunity to explore this vast, beautiful life taken away by a _demon._ A pathetic _demon._ His imagination created dystopias to betray and destroy Dan’s ability to do anything to save himself. 

He could feel the sobs slipping through his throat as the thing grew closer. The grief of his inevitable doom was paralyzing, already getting comfortable with him before his demise. Everything was so slow, yet it all moved so fast. He had a million thoughts yet none at all. The only thing that he was able to recognize was the demon.

It was only feet away when Dan was finally able to spot the hint of something recognizable. It was a pale hand that reached out to him slowly. Dan had never felt fear so profound in his life. He had experienced the horrifying weight of a demon sleeping next to him practically every night, but _seeing_ something was a completely different ball field. This was fucking _real._

Dan nearly started sorting his thoughts for the absolute worst, but before the demon could reach him with its disgustingly pale fingers, he found power beneath the intimidation and paralyzing dread to do something.

“Get the fuck away from me!” Dan sputtered, his voice breaking as sobs pathetically flew from his grasp. 

The hand stopped. It flinched, but it didn’t recoil back into the dark mass of its silhouette. It just stayed frozen. 

This didn’t make any sense. This couldn’t be real. Dan must be hallucinating. He must be dreaming. This is a nightmare. It has to be. He can’t die like this. 

“You can see me?” 

The world stopped rotating.

Dan’s lungs seized.

Did it just… _Speak?_ There was no way. This couldn’t be happening. Why did it sound so real? Why did it sound so human? This was a fucking _demon._ A bloodthirsty monster with only evil desires.

“Please tell me you can see me,” the voice spoke again.

It was at that moment the thing got on ground level with Dan, and he saw it. Saw its every confusingly human feature. 

His eyes were a pale blue that stuck out more than anything else on his body, the vividness of a summer sky blue chained beneath the odd fog of its being, the darkness of its hair only aiding the look. His lips were a chapped, faded pink. His skin almost seemed to glow too, but only because of how utterly white it was and not because of some otherworldly cause. The thing almost looked real had he not looked so dead.

Once his eyes had enough time to scan and search his every detail, Dan’s mouth fell open, begging to scream. 

“You can… Oh my God, you can!” He laughed ridiculously, raw ecstasy and relief pouring from his voice.

Dan tried with the little strength he still had to move as far away from this thing as he could. His entire back was pressed against the wall with such force that you’d assume Dan wanted to go through it. He wished he could more than anything at that moment. 

He could feel the burn in his face as tears wanted to spill out. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know if he should attack or run or scream. Hell, he still didn’t even know if this was real.

In fact, none of this should be real. His windows shouldn’t open randomly. His piano lid shouldn’t open with no explanation. His cupboards and drawers should stay closed. His apartment should stay warm. There shouldn’t be a fucking demon sleeping next to him every night. There should only be Dan in his bed.

Maybe the fact he liked his therapist was fucking him up. Maybe _therapy_ was fucking him up. He wondered if he would’ve been happier just pretending like everything was fine and just lied to save from all the pity and concern.

He wondered if moving out was a good idea. He wondered if he would’ve been happier just staying with his parents. At least their disappointment was something Dan could accept. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He chuckled, blissfully ignorant. His voice was far too colorful right now. The juxtaposition was sadistic. “What do I look like? Am I see-through? or do I look real? I’ve always wondered that but I wouldn’t know since I don’t show up in reflections-”

“What the fuck are you?” Dan spat the question in his face with pure hatred. The wobble in his voice though only made him sound like a scared child. 

He blinked momentarily, a bit surprised by Dan’s reaction. 

“Uh… Dead?” He answered confused.

Dan’s eyes somehow got wider. 

“What do you want?” Dan exclaimed, the need to cry growing stronger. “Please, I’ll give you anything you want, just-”

“What are you talking about? I don’t want anything... Do you think I’m going to like, hurt you or something?” He laughed again, a crooked, somewhat hesitant smiling covering his face. 

Why the hell was this thing laughing? His demeanor conflicted with Dan's brain in ways that twisted it into a pretzel.

Dan finally started to cry, everything finally catching up behind the lag of his confusion. The immeasurable pain squeezed the build-up of agony from his eyes like it was draining a sponge, and it seemed at that moment, the thing finally realized the situation they were in.

“Oh my god, you _do_ think I’m going to hurt you- I am so sorry I wasn’t trying to scare you I just-” He finally backed away from Dan, giving him space to calm down after realizing just how close he was. “I’m so sorry. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Dan didn’t calm down even a smidge, though. None of its odd reassurances or promises would persuade Dan to calm down. All he wanted was for this thing to disappear forever, and until that happened, he doubted he would ever have a peace of mind.

“I was just- I was just trying to get your attention. I was so sure you didn’t know I was here-” 

He dared to get closer to Dan again, and upon noticing this, Dan’s hand shot to the floor to grab the nearest item -- that being his lamp -- and Dan raised it up to him.

“Stay the fuck away from me!” He screamed, holding the lamp up like a pathetic weapon.

The thing put his hands up and backed away as soon as Dan threatened him. 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said again. “I promise.”

Dan continued jabbing his cold, dark eyes into him, keeping the lamp up, his distrust unwavering. He looked threatening had his shaking body not proven that he was completely defenseless. 

“I’m really sorry for scaring you- I swear, it was only to get your attention-”

“You have my attention, now leave me the fuck alone!” He yelled. 

He looked hurt, but Dan wasn’t going to let that change anything.

“I… Well, I know this is a bit late but my name is Phil. It’s um- nice to technically meet you I guess.”

“I don’t fucking care who you are,” Dan shouted, and Phil flinched. 

“I um…” Phil floundered. “I know you don’t like me a whole lot but… I really need your help.”

“Help you?! You fucking terrorize me every night for _months_ and you expect me to help you?!”

“I’m really sorry, Dan. I-I had no idea I-”

“All I want is to come home from work and take a shower without getting hypothermia. All I want is to sleep in my goddamn bed without fearing for my _fucking life!_ ” His voice broke as he cried.

Phil just stared down at him, the remorse on his face consuming his every scarily human feature.

“You have no idea how much shit you’ve put me through. I want you fucking _gone_! Just leave me the fuck alone-” 

“Well I’d be able to leave if you’d help me!” Phil was finally the one raising his voice.

Dan flinched, and for the first time tonight, he actually heard his words.

“I know you hate me, Dan, but I can’t go anywhere unless you help me.” He quieted his voice, but it was still as desperate. 

Dan stared dead in his eyes.

The last thing he ever wanted to do on this godforsaken planet was help the very thing that made living at his own home such a nightmare. Who’s to say this wasn’t just a trick to earn Dan’s trust? Who’s to say this _thing_ is as harmless as it makes seems? 

But if this was truly his ticket to peace, he wondered if it was worth it.

“How do you expect me to help you?” Dan asked, his hostility hovering in the air.

Phil lowered his eyes.

“Well I uh… Kinda need help figuring that out too…”

Dan scoffed, letting the arm that held the lamp up fall to the floor.

“Okay so you torture me every night _‘trying to get my attention’_ when you don’t even know how I’m supposed to help you in the first place. Sounds good.”

“Well I’m sorry I can’t make this easy for you. Maybe if I knew anything about my life in the first place this wouldn’t be such an inconvenience for you,” Phil barked back.

Dan paused. He almost let a snarky comment slip out before he realized what exactly Phil said. 

“Yeah, that’s right, Dan. You’re not the only one who’s suffering here.” He glared down at him. “The only thing I know is my goddamn name. Just my fucking _name!_ I don’t know when I died, how I died, where I died, who my family is, who _I_ am -- Nothing makes any sense. I’ve been floating around here for the past who-knows-how-long just trying to figure something out. Or, at the very least, get someone’s attention, but nothing has worked up until now!”

Dan watched Phil gesture angrily with his arms, pacing back and forth as he tried to persuade him. He felt his heart tear a bit at the words, but the dark, consuming pit still couldn’t find the place to accept his words.

“I’m stuck here, Dan,” he emphasized. “And as much as you’ll hate to admit it, you are the only person who can help me, so stop being a selfish prick.” 

Dan frowned at his comment.

“I didn’t move into this shit building just to help a fuckhead ghost remember what his mom’s name is.”

“And I didn’t die just so some lowlife dick would turn down helping me move on.”

They glared at each other for a moment, but Dan could already tell what his answer was going to be. He also knew this situation was inescapable had his answer been any different.

“If I help you, will you promise to stop being so _intrusive?”_ Dan grimaced.

“Only if you promise to stop threatening me with lamps,” Phil returned.

“Not if you keep sleeping in my bed and sniffing my hair.”

Phil didn’t shoot a comeback this time. Instead, his face scrunched up into a shamed embarrassment which Dan had stopped to relish in.

Phil mumbled something Dan couldn’t bother trying to make out before he peered down.

Dan finally felt safe enough to stand up. He tried ignoring Phil, hoping he’d dissipate (or whatever ghosts do) so he could finally sleep. He lifted his bedside table up and pushed it back where it belonged.

It was when he started picking up the miscellaneous objects that he had been grabbed. Having been caught in a fleeting sense of safety, Dan yelped in surprise and swatted his arm away vigorously.

“That’s the notepad! That’s the one I found on the-the shelf!” Phil said, pointing to his closet.

“Does dying mean you lose all concept of personal boundaries too?” Dan snarled, completely ignoring him. 

“That number on the back, did you call it? Who answered?!” 

“Jesus Christ, calm down.” Dan pried Phil’s hands off him for a second time when he decided clinging onto his shoulders was appropriate. “It was just some pissed stranger.”

“Did you get their name? They must’ve been someone important, maybe they know what happened!”

“They told me not to call them again before I could figure out who they were so that ship has already sailed buddy,” Dan said indifferently, returning to his task of cleaning up. 

“No, the ship has _not_ sailed. You have to call them again. You have to ask them what happened to me.”

“Oooh no I’m not,” Dan said. “Besides, how can you be sure that the notepad was yours?”

“Well we won’t know unless you ask!” Phil argued desperately.

Just imagining the humiliation was enough to make Dan shiver. _No way_ was that happening. Absolutely _not._ He’d rather be haunted for the rest of time than deal with calling that person again. 

“I would quite literally do anything else,” Dan stated, turning to face the man.

Phil scowled.

“Fine, then call the building’s manager and figure out who I am.”

“I don’t think that’s legal.” 

“Then ask the neighbors! Someone here has to remember me.”

Dan rolled his eyes, but he did feel bad. No, he felt _really_ bad. His words hit Dan in an unsuspecting soft spot.

It was a task in and of itself trying to grasp the reality and implications of this entire situation, and frankly, Dan had been trying to avoid confronting himself and his beliefs this entire time. He was still so certain that he was dreaming, but the thought that this was real raised questions Dan didn’t have the energy to answer, let alone the stability to spend the next hour pondering about it. 

But then to think about the situation Phil’s in. Death is scary enough, but wandering around like whatever entity Phil was without a purpose sounds utterly terrifying, and that’s an understatement. Infinite confusion, perpetual frustration. No one can hear you or see you. Stuck. It sounded like hell, and when Dan had spared a moment to actually consider the void Phil was living in every day, he looked up at him, and the pure, desultory anguish was displayed on his every feature like makeup. 

He sighed deeply, his morals and integrity overpowering his selfishness in the most annoying way possible. 

Moving out and starting a new life as a brand new, confident, optimistic person is -- evidently -- not as easy as it sounds. 

“I’ll... I’ll do what I can, Phil. But we can’t do anything until tomorrow.” Dan rubbed his face tiredly, already picturing the mess that’s being handed to him.

It was hard enough to unpack his boxes, and now he was supposed to help a ghost find closure? He could practically taste the regret, but the moment he started suspecting the feeling, it was washed away.

Washed away because Phil’s eyes blossomed into petals of hope and color and life. 

“Thank you, Dan. Thank you I-I know I’m asking for a lot here, but absolutely anything will help.” Phil clasped his ghostly hands with gratitude.

It was odd. Dan felt wanted. He felt needed. He felt important in this world, like a hero had just been bestowed a brilliantly dangerous quest. 

It was interesting to have been given this feeling by a spectral entity, but at that moment, what exactly was giving him worth was not important. What was important was that he felt exhilarated by life. It was that he was _excited._

What a bizarre world we live in.

  
  



End file.
